A House Is Not A Home
by JeanBoulet
Summary: Jeremy wakes up in the woods one night and finds that he cannot enter his own house. What exactly happened? Jeremy-centric with some Stefan and Damon. More characters are beginning to show up. Please note the first A/N in chapter 6!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Just want to take this time to let you know that I've only written two chapters of this story, though I think there is more to be told. But for those of you who have witnessed the travesty that is the end of my Inheritance Cycle fanfic(rather, the LACK of ending...), then you know full well that I have a problem with multi-chaptered fics. But I like where I ended this one. Very open. So if you feel like you're going to be jipped...turn back now lmao. I promise I won't be offended. I just needed to get this one out of my head.

**Disclaimer:** Story title is actually the title to a song sung by Dionne Warwick, written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. I don't own any of that. Nor do I own the Vampire Diaries.

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Panic. That was all he could feel: that cold, sinking feeling in his stomach, coupled with the slither that laced up his spine. It took all that Jeremy had to keep from screaming at the top of his lungs and run as far away from this place and as fast as his legs could carry him. Which—he inferred, standing immobile in front of the open door to his house—could possibly be incredibly fast.

So he turned and ran. And as he ran, he knew he could run faster. But he wouldn't try it—wouldn't entertain that panic that made his fingers curl and twitch nervously.

He didn't know where his feet were taking him until he was standing in front of the Salvatore boarding house. He didn't know why he was knocking. He didn't want the answers to the questions that were plaguing him. So when he did knock, the sound startled him. Jeremy heard the footsteps on the other side of the door, and his head snapped up to meet equally startled green eyes.

"Stefan." _God,_ Jeremy thought when he heard the breathy, cracked sound leave his lips. _Was that really my voice?_ "Stefan, I…" Under Stefan's piercing, questioning, genuinely confused gaze, Jeremy forced the words out. "I can't get into my house." There. He'd said it. It seemed all too real now, but Jeremy's mind was still reeling. "I can't get into my house, and I… Stefan I'm so _hungry_." Stefan didn't say anything. His eyes made minute scanning movements, roaming over Jeremy's form. "Stefan, am I…?" _Dead_. But the word wouldn't come.

It was painful, standing there, waiting for Stefan to say something. Finally, "You don't…remember?" His brow was especially furrowed, and his face looked…haunted?

"No," Jeremy replied, gripping the doorframe to lean on it and calm his frustration and nerves. "Is that normal? To not know how it happened?" They were both skating around saying the actual words; specifically as to what Jeremy had become.

"I don't know." Stefan's short and unhelpful replies were starting to annoy Jeremy.

"Well who's been feeding me vampire blood?" he demanded. "Not many options there. I don't even remember how I died. I woke up in the woods without my ring, so what happened to it? What happened to _me_?"

Stefan stepped forward and put his hands on Jeremy's shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. "Jeremy, listen to me. What is the last thing you remember?"

"I woke up in the woods—"

"No," Stefan shook his head. "No, before that. Before you woke up in the woods, what's the last thing you remember doing?"

Stefan watched him as he thought. Jeremy's mind was fuzzy with hunger, panic, and delirium. "We'd just gotten home."

"From where?"

"From killing Klaus." Jeremy watched the expression completely drain from Stefan's face. "Well…Elijah killed him. Damon helped. You and I got Elena away from Klaus. Bonnie did a spell…Klaus was dead and then we went home."

Stefan let his hands fall from Jeremy's shoulders. His eyes were distant and dark. "Jeremy, come inside." The look on the vampire's face made Jeremy's panic rise again.

"What's wrong?" he asked cautiously.

"Jeremy, you're hungry. Come inside, and I'll explain everything."

"What is there to explain? What aren't you telling me?"

"Jer—"

"No, don't 'Jer' me." Jeremy's throat was burning, and his hands were shaking. He knew what that meant. "What happened to me?"

Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "That night that you remember, after we killed Klaus?" Jeremy gave a nod. "That night couldn't have happened, Jeremy."

His throat was dry, but he licked his lips, anyway. "Why not?" But that panic that gripped him before was back, and it was strangling him.

Stefan was silent for a moment, but just before Jeremy exploded with questions, he said, "I watched you die that day."

Jeremy tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it hurt to even breathe.

"Bonnie cast a spell that all of us thought would disable the daywalking rings. Do you remember that?"

He could only nod. Bonnie said that the spell would only work for a few minutes, but it would be enough time for Elijah, Damon, and Stefan to get in, kill Klaus, get Elena, and get out. She'd performed a spell to protect Elijah's, Damon's, and Stefan's rings so that they could still walk in the daylight for those few minutes, but any other vampire in the vicinity would be scorched by the sun.

"We found out that the spell worked on anything spelled by a witch, including…"

"My ring." Jeremy's voice was hollow and numb. He almost wanted Stefan to stop, but he needed to know more. "Then what?"

Stefan shook his head and averted his eyes like he didn't want to continue, but he did. "One of Klaus' vampires caught me by surprise when we finally found Elena. He attacked me, trying to get to her. You tried to stake him, but he was too fast for you. He snapped your neck before I could get to him."

It really wasn't all that hard to process. Jeremy had died before. This time, had been permanent. Well…mostly, anyway.

"I convinced Elena that you would be fine so I could get her out of there." Stefan continued, sounding pained as he spoke. "I really believed it, too. It wasn't until after everything was finished…Klaus was dead, his vampires either staked or burned to a crisp…and you hadn't woken up, so we began to think something might be wrong. Damon figured it out when we found Alaric."

Jeremy's heart was in his throat. "Alaric, too?"

Stefan nodded. "We buried you both the next week."

"Why do I remember coming home that night? I got ready for bed. I talked to Elena. Why do I remember all that if it never happened?"

"Probably the same reason why you didn't rise until after you were buried. The vampire that turned you was strong enough to plant those memories and delay the change."

"Then why don't I remember getting out of…" Saying 'my grave' made this too real for Jeremy. Despite being gung-ho about the vampire gig before, he wasn't ready. He didn't want to face this. "Why don't I remember getting out?" he said, praying that Stefan wouldn't make him clarify.

Stefan was silent again. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it; then he tried again. "I don't know. But there's something else you need to know, Jeremy.

Crap. More great news.

"That day, when we killed Klaus?" Stefan paused and seemed to gather himself before he spoke again. "That day was five years ago."

Jeremy felt his body go numb, and the burning in his throat was stronger than ever. He just stood there, slightly open-mouthed, and his heart was pounding.

"You've been dead for five years."

* * *

**A/N:** Yup, I'm cruel. Again, there will be one more chapter after this...maybe more...but don't hold me to it. If you'd be interested in doing me a huge favor and beta-ing this fic, though, your help would be much appreciated! Your job description would entail grammar/spelling checks, helping me to find those pesky plot bunnies, and just kicking me in the behind to get chapters written. I can seriously work...I wrote both chapters in about a week. I just need motivation. So yes, you would be responsible for helping me to keep on track. I would love you forever.

Much love~

**Jeannie**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Just wanted to say thank you SO much for your feedback, guys! Yes, I'm even counting the 'story added to alert's that this story has received! Really. Thank you so much. I'm taking this one chapter at a time. I hate it when I can't finish a story...it feels like I'm letting everyone down, so I'm trying to end every chapter with something conclusive. Yes, I know, you couldn't tell with the last chapter, but I promise it gets better! I've got chapter 3 finished, so once I get chapter 4 finished, I'll post chapter 3. Maybe I'll split it up just to get chapter 3 up...right now, it's a doozy xD Again, thank you guys so much for all your reviews and alerts, and happy reading!

* * *

Stefan may have said something else after that, but Jeremy hadn't heard it. He finally went into the boarding house, letting his feet carry him to the common area. He found exactly what he was looking for. At least the location of the booze hadn't changed.

"Jeremy, that's not what you need." Stefan said slowly, having followed Jeremy into the house.

But Jeremy ignored him and poured himself a glass, anyway. He knew it wasn't the liquid is throat was burning for, but…he wasn't ready to face that yet. Jeremy downed the liquor and started to pour himself another glass, but Stefan's hand covered the top of the glass before Jeremy could blink.

"Jeremy."

Jeremy was getting really tired of hearing Stefan say his name, especially when he said it in _that_ tone—the one Elena always used. Used to use, Jeremy corrected himself.

"You need to keep your mind clear right now, okay?"

"Keep my mind clear?" he repeated, suddenly angry. "I'm missing the last five years of my life! Not to mention I'm…I'm like you now, and I can't even remember how it happened or who did it!"He gripped the glass and pulled it out from under Stefan's hand. "I don't think sobering up will do anything to clear my mind." He growled, pouring more scotch into the glass.

"That's not what he meant."

Jeremy's head snapped up at the new voice, and he mentally groaned.

Damon was one of the last people he wanted to see, but that didn't stop the older vampire from sauntering up the stairs from the basement, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

"Damon," Stefan lifted his head to look at his brother. "Now isn't a good time."

"I completely agree with you, Brother. It's late, and I don't feel like listening to Mr. Seven Stages of Grief all night, so I brought a little gift."

But one look at Jeremy, and anyone could tell that he hadn't been listening to the brothers. His eyes were fixed to something Damon held at his side. Damon certainly noticed, and his smirk was even more smug when he raised the blood bag and Jeremy's eyes followed it. He shook it a little, enjoying the way Jeremy's jaw tightened. But he didn't have long to be smug, because Jeremy was suddenly six inches from him, veins pulsing beneath his blackening eyes.

Damon glanced at his brother, and Stefan looked as surprised as Damon felt. Jeremy was only five years. That wasn't long enough for him to be able to move like that. At the same time, five years was more than enough time for Jeremy's body to adjust to being without blood for three or four days. So the fact that Jeremy was this hungry meant that he hadn't fed for at least that—and yet, he was still moving about as fast as Damon could.

Damon extended the blood bag out for Jeremy to grab, and he did reach for it, but then he was struggling against himself and backing away from Damon. But Damon didn't let him get away so easily. Every step Jeremy took back was a step Damon took forward.

"I can't…" Jeremy said, his voice breaking just above a whisper.

"Actually, you have to." Damon said matter-of-factly.

"Damon's right, Jeremy." Stefan interjected. "We don't know how long it's been since you've fed." Then, a little gentler, he said, "You're a vampire now. You need blood to survive."

"I know about vampires." Jeremy snapped. "You don't have to lecture me like a child." He forced himself away from Damon and went back to the liquor cabinet and poured himself another drink.

"Yes, because you have so much experience being one."

"I've been one for five years. Apparently, Stefan, I was doing something right." He raised the glass to his lips, and Stefan swooped in to steal it, as expected. But Jeremy used his own speed to push Stefan away before he could get to it, which slammed Stefan into the back of a couch—ten feet away.

Jeremy's breath hitched in his throat when he realized what he'd done. Averting his gaze from Stefan, he downed the drink.

"You know," Damon's voice made Jeremy turn, and he saw the vampire walking towards him again. "I remember you being quite the vampire groupie back when you were—you know—human. You were dead set on turning when Anna offered to do the dirty deed.

His slow and mocking voice grated on Jeremy's nerves. "So?"

"So what changed?"

Well that one was easy to answer, and Jeremy was too on edge to worry about someone like Damon know something so personal. "I only wanted her to change me because I thought Vicki was still alive."

A light flickered in Damon's eyes. Jeremy couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing, so he just kept talking.

"And even when I knew Vicki was dead, I didn't want Anna to be alone. And when she died, I didn't want the pain. But I decided for _myself_." He bit out the last few words. "I knew that I was drinking vampire blood. I _wanted_ to. But this?" he gestured to himself. "This wasn't planned. I don't know why I was drinking vampire blood, and I don't know who was giving it to me. That's what changed."

Damon was silent for a moment, and from the expression on Damon's face, Jeremy couldn't tell if the vampire was about to laugh at him or kill him. "So you're telling me," he started. "That you wanted to turn, and then the love of your life broke your heart, and now you're upset that you were forced to turn against your will?" He gave a snort with that famous smirk. "Been there, done that. You'll get over it."

But Jeremy didn't miss the split-second glance his brother. Jeremy had connected the dots before Damon finished his comparison of their situations. He just gave Damon a glare and shook his head. "Difference is, Damon, you were turned by the woman you loved. I don't even know who the hell did this to me."

"You know…" Damon started in that voice that teetered on the edge of insanity. "I've got a solution for all of this." He was closer to Jeremy; enough to make him nervous, but not enough to make him nervous, but not enough to worry about Damon ripping his heart out. But that didn't mean Damon wouldn't try, so he was still wary.

"What? Gonna kill me again? You had no qualms about it the first time, so—"

He saw Damon move, but he saw it too late. Damon had opened the blood bag and splattered its contents in Jeremy's face. Jeremy had just enough time to recoil and shield his face with his hands. Blood dripped from his soaked palms down the length of his arms. Jeremy's eyes were black again, and he felt the painful rip of his gums as his fangs began to protrude.

He leaned in slowly, the edges of his vision blackening slowly as he zeroed in on the tantalizing scent. Jeremy imagined what it would taste like if he just—

And that was when Jeremy snapped himself out of his trance. His throat was burning even more than before, and his vision was still dark around the edges. Jeremy stumbled, feeling like he was going to throw up. He needed to wash the blood from his face, his hands… Jeremy heard Stefan call out to him, and Damon said something snarky in reply, but Jeremy didn't stop to think about their words. He just ran as fast as he could—which was only a human pace, seeing as he couldn't stop stumbling and running into things as his knees weakened—to the guest bathroom he knew was just around the corner. The trick was getting there.

As soon as he got to the bathroom, Jeremy turned the hot water on full blast and shoved his hands under the stream—at least, that's what he wanted to do. But Jeremy just stood there, staring at his hands as the blood dripped onto the white porcelain of the sink. His thoughts drifted back to focusing on the blood. Its color was vibrant, even though it was probably a few days old. Its smell was intoxicating, alluring…empowering. As if just one taste and Jeremy could do anything he wanted—be anything he wanted.

It wasn't until he'd licked all of the blood from his left hand before he realized what he was doing. But by then, Jeremy didn't care. He started on the right without a second thought.

When he was finished, Jeremy spared a glance at the mirror. He saw the blackened and sunken in eyes surrounded by pulsating and protruding veins; they were his eyes. Jeremy stared at his reflection for a few more minutes, and then he put his hands under the steaming stream of water, not caring about the temperature. It was when he turned to dry his hands that he saw Damon's reflection looking at him.

His arms were crossed, and he looked even more smug than normal. "Told you so." He said with his trademark grin. "You just had a taste. Come on. There's more where that came from." With that, Damon turned and went back down the hallway, obviously waiting for Jeremy to follow him.

So he did.

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**AN:** Sorry if Damon and Jeremy are a little OOC. I'm not good with comedy, and I know the least about Jeremy in the whole series-since he's not in the books. Gimme some time to write chapter 4, but chapter 3 should be coming your way, regardless. And if you have any questions that you want to see answered, please shoot me a PM. I allow anonymous reviews so anyone with or without an account can be heard. But yeah, seriously. Sometimes I think I've answered all the questions in a chapter, but sometimes I'm wrong. So if you have questions, I'll put the answers in the following chapter. And if this story falls by the wayside before then, I'll answer them directly.

Thank you so much for reading!

~Jean


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** A little later than intended, but here's chapter 3. And it really is a doozy, lemme tell you. Chapter 4 is written and ready to be published. Chapter 5 is hiding out in my brain somewhere, but hopefully, I should be able to get that written in the next week or so. Thanks so much for your reviews and alerts!

~Enjoy!

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Jeremy was on his second blood bag before he started to feel better. He finally murmured an apology to Stefan, who leaned against the fireplace. And surprisingly enough, he was sporting his own glass of hospital blood. Jeremy nodded toward it with a frown. "I'm guessing a lot of things have changed."

Stefan gave a small nod, swirling his glass. "I built up a tolerance to it. I can handle about two glasses a day." He lifted the glass to his lips, and Jeremy saw his ring, which immediately reminded him of his own.

Jeremy flexed the fingers of his right hand out of habit, even though he knew that the Gilbert ring wouldn't be there.

"Elena has it."

Jeremy blinked up at Stefan when he spoke, and he paused before giving a small nod.

"I took it from you after we realized you were…"

"After you croaked." Damon said as he walked into the room and sat down in the chair next to Jeremy's couch. He had two more bags in tow. He opened one to start drinking himself, and he tossed the other to Jeremy.

He hadn't even realized he was almost finished with his current bag.

"I gave it to Elena," Stefan continued, ignoring his brother. "She wears it around her neck now. I think Jenna has Alaric's."

Again, because he didn't know what else to do, Jeremy nodded. He sipped from his blood bag until he found something to say. "So how is everyone?" it was a lame question, he knew, but he still wanted to know what had been going on for the last five years—what had happened to the people he cared most about.

"By 'everyone'…?" Stefan started, looking confused. Or maybe he was just avoiding the question.

"Elena?" Jeremy pressed. "Jenna, Bonnie, Tyler, Caroline, Matt? Hell, even Kathrine, Uncle John, Elijah… How are they? _Where_ are they? Did they go to college?"

"They left." Damon said shortly.

Before more questions could be asked, Stefan began to explain. "Some did go to college, yes, but…almost everyone left before that."

"What do you mean?"

Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jeremy, you don't know how much your death affected everyone." He said, sounding slightly frustrated.

"Don't mind him." Damon interjected. "He's just mad because Elena broke up with him after you died."

Jeremy frowned at that. "Wait…you and Elena aren't together anymore?"

Stefan just shook his head, but it was Damon who explained further. "They're not even on speaking terms."

"Cut it out, Damon." Stefan snapped, glaring at his brother.

"After you died," Damon continued. "Elena couldn't deal with the guilt she had for putting you in enough danger that you went and got yourself killed, and Jenna couldn't deal with losing both you and the father of her then-unborn child—"

"Wait…Aunt Jenna had a kid?"

"Don't interrupt. They couldn't deal with it, so they moved."

"They…left Mystic Falls?" That house was the only constant thing that their family had. Elena and Jeremy had grown up in it…they'd lived with their parents in it…they'd cried in it…and then they'd had a family with Aunt Jenna in it… Jeremy just couldn't imagine either of them picking up and leaving all that behind. Then again… Jeremy swallowed the lump in his throat. "Where did they go?"

"Washington, D.C." Stefan answered.

Jeremy was confused. "What's in Washington, D.C.?"

"Georgetown University. Elena didn't want to go to Duke anymore. Too many ghosts. Even more than before, now."

If he were Elena, Jeremy guessed that he wouldn't have gone to Duke, either. Especially after Alaric's added death. "And Bonnie?" he asked.

"Oh, she didn't waste any time leaving town." Damon said, taking another sip of his blood.

But when Jeremy was on the verge of looking horrified, Stefan explained. "She put most of the blame on herself." His words came out distant and almost cold. "And she wasn't the only one. Even though Elena never said it, she never looked at Bonnie the same way again. They haven't said a word to each other since, that I know of."

Jeremy had to forcibly push down a wave of guilt that sweapt over him. It didn't help anything to feel sorry for himself. "Where did she go, then?"

Stefan shook his head. "Caroline said that she went to California to live with some distant relatives."

"Which ones?"

"Witchy ones." Damon grinned, amused at his own play on words. Jeremy and Stefan were less amused.

"What about Caroline, Tyler, and Matt?"

"Golden boy's still here." Damon continued. "And still blissfully ignorant. Barbie kennel-trained her mutt, and they went on the road."

"We hear from them every now and again."

So that was it…? Everyone Jeremy cared about was just…gone. Stefan was right. Jeremy hadn't realized the affect his death had on everyone around him. Another wave of guilt smashed against his resolve, and Jeremy felt tears prick his eyes. He pushed those away, too.

"Stop feeling guilty." Damon said firmly and gestured for Jeremy to start on the third blood bag. "You didn't plan on things happening like this."

This was one of those moments where Damon said something truly genuine, and everyone was surprised by it. Once he'd recovered, Jeremy shook his head. "I'm not feeling guilty." Well, maybe a little, if Jeremy was being truly honest with himself. "I'm pissed at myself for not coming back to at least let everyone know I was okay." He bit out, his fingers gripping the arm of the couch until they were white. "I'm pissed that I can't remember _anything_ from the past five years. The fact that the world thinks I'm dead puts a damper on things, too."

"Not the _whole_ world." Stefan pointed out cautiously, as if he were trying to suggest something. "Just Mystic Falls."

"So you should probably leave." Damon summed up casually and with a bright smile.

"That vaulted Jeremy from his seat. "What?"

"Leave." He clarified. "Skedaddle. Scram. Venture into the bright blue yonder. I don't care what you do, but do it soon. You'll out the rest of us."

"Jeremy, look," Stefan started, taking a step towards the younger man. "Damon has a point. You need to be around people. You need _some_ measure of normalcy, something to keep you grounded. You can't get that here."

As much as he wanted to scream and shout that this was anything but normal, Stefan's advice was solid. Unless he wanted to spend the rest of his undead existence hidden away from everyone and everything, he couldn't stay in Mystic Falls. The whole town knew he had died. So Jeremy nodded reluctantly, letting his feet carry him to a nearby window. The sky was pink in the early hours of the morning, a telltale sign that the sun would be rising soon. "Where should I go?" he wondered.

"I think Georgetown's a good start."

Jeremy's head snapped to the side to look at Stefan. "No." was his immediate reply.

"Jeremy, she has to know—"

"No." he reiterated, talking over Stefan. "She and Jenna have been fine without me."

"If you think that—"

"Okay, maybe not 'fine', but they've accepted it! They're continuing on with their lives. It's probably taken awhile for them to get to this point, and I'm not taking that away."

The two of them were silent for a moment, just staring at each other, firm in both of their beliefs. And then Damon broke the awkward silence.

"A little late for that."

Before Jeremy could even voice his confusion, he saw it. Damon was holding up his cell phone, and on the screen was a picture of a smiling Elena, an icon indicating speakerphone, and a red button to 'end the call'. Jeremy's breath was caught in his throat as he watched the timer on the phone tick away the seconds of the current phone call.

"J…Jeremy…?"

His throat tightened when he heard Elena's voice. She was crying—that, he knew. She sounded…broken, and yet he could _hear_ the hope in her strained voice as she said his name again, obviously desperate for him to answer…but he couldn't.

Jeremy just ran. He ran as fast as he could out the door, even though he heard both Stefan and Elena's voices call after him.

He was deep in the woods surrounding the property before he stopped and looked up. The pink in the sky was quickly fading to orange in the wake of the rising sun. For a brief moment, Jeremy contemplated what it would be like to just stay out in the woods until the sun rose; he wondered what it would be like, to be fried alive. But that was way too stupid, he told himself. His life wasn't _over_, but it had certainly gotten a lot more complicated. Jeremy lifted his head slightly when he heard the sound of superhuman footsteps, soft as rain, yet clear as a bell.

"Running away like that? Very stupid idea." Damon observed, coming to stand a little ways behind the younger man. "Especially this close to sunrise without a witchy day-walking ring."

Jeremy resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he heard Damon's voice. "I know."

They were silent for a few more moments, and then Damon broke it. "You're not going back into that emo phase you were so fond of, are you?"

This time, Jeremy did roll his eyes as he turned to face the other vampire. "Are you going to keep insulting me 'til I leave?"

"So you are planning on leaving?"

Jeremy snorted. "Don't sound so pleased."

"I'm just asking."

"Yes, because you never have an ulterior motive that plays directly to your advantage. Oh wait."

The joking gleam was gone from Damon's eyes, and he was suddenly inches from Jeremy's face. "Still a brat, even in the afterlife."

Jeremy stood firm and unflinching. "Still an asshole, even after five years. Glad to know things haven't changed."

"Okay, you know what?" Damon's hand wrapped around Jeremy's neck and pinned him face-first against the trunk of a tree. Jeremy winced as the bark dug into his skin. "It would be _so_ easy for me to keep you here until the sun rises over that horizon in oh, say…ten minutes. It would even help your little pity-party, suicidal agenda, so tell me, Jeremy," he said that mocking voice he'd perfected long ago. "Do you want to die, or do you want to live?"

Jeremy didn't even have to think. "I want to live, Damon, I don't feel _that_ pathetic!" he pushed back to make Damon let him go, but Damon just pushed him harder against the bark of the tree.

"Well that makes my life oodles more complicated." Jeremy could almost hear the smile in Damon's words. "So if you really want to live, be a good boy and go bother someone else in some other town that is _very far away_."

"Why, Damon?" he asked cheekily. "Why are you so eager to get rid of me?"

Damon rolled his eyes and slammed Jeremy into the tree again, smiling when Jeremy hissed out in pain. "Stefan was right about you not realizing the repercussions of your death." Damon said in a low growl. "He went on a binge drinking kick after Elena moved. I forget how many times he got caught, but I cleaned up after him. So now, when we're finally stable, and the Council is once again ignorant of us, you show up—back from the dead—without any memory of the last five years and expect to work your way back into our lives?" he clicked his tongue in a 'shame on you' manner. "Think of how that looks from our end. Well…my end, since Stefan seems completely convinced by your little charade."

Jeremy was stunned to silence for a minute. Damon was implying… Then again, it made sense. "You thinking I'm making it up." He said slowly. "You think I'm working for…I don't know who…probably someone trying to find you, learn you, get in your heads…"

"And what better way to do that than send in someone we _buried_ five years ago?"

"Damon, this is crazy!" Jeremy shouted. "I don't even know who turned me!"

"And if I did?"

For a moment, Jeremy wasn't sure if either of them breathed. He was frozen, letting Damon's words sink in. "You…You _know? _You know who did this to me, and you haven't said anything?"

"Stop playing games." Damon hissed into Jeremy's ear.

But Jeremy had had enough. He finally got his arm out from under his body and jabbed it back into Damon's abdomen. The older vampire staggered back with a grunt, and Jeremy tackled him to the ground and pinned him there before Damon could recover. "_You_ stop playing games." Jeremy growled dangerously, his eyes black with bloodlust. "I'm done with your chivalry act. You haven't done anything in your afterlife without getting something in return. Well right now? That ends. You are going to tell me who turned me." Damon struggled throughout, but Jeremy had fed, and he was blinded by anger and panic and hopelessness. There was no way Damon was avoiding his questions now. "Tell me!" he reiterated, slamming Damon's head against the hard ground.

But still, Damon was silent. He looked up into Jeremy's black eyes with his own blue ones, and understanding flickered through them. "You really can't remember."

"Of course I can't!" he roared. "You're not talking your way out of this one, Damon, now tell me what you know! Who turned me?"

Damon slowly let out a sigh. "I don't know." He said with hard eyes. That was Damon's 'I'm telling the truth' look. Jeremy had seen it before…but he didn't want to believe it.

He blinked in confusion. "You just said—"

"I lied." He said as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "If you really were a spy, you would have killed me and made it look like an accident." He reasoned. "Now get off me. You're heavy."

It took Jeremy a few seconds to wrap his mind around everything. Damon's reasoning was sound, though, so…he didn't know anything. Jeremy was back right where he started. His eyes and face slowly returned to normal, and his fangs retracted. Jeremy slid off of Damon and helped him stand. Then, something occurred to him. "If I was a good spy, would I keep you alive to make you think I was on your side?"

Damon paused in brushing himself off to give Jeremy a look. "The fact that you even asked that is proof that you're not nearly smart enough to pull it off." He pointed out.

Jeremy frowned. He wasn't exactly sure how he should take that. He reached down to absently rub a spot that had been sore since Damon pinned him to the tree, and he found a bulge on his thigh. Jeremy looked down, and his frown deepened: there was something in his pocket.

It was then that Jeremy realized something: the clothes he'd been wearing weren't his. It wasn't the black button-up shirt with half-rolled-up sleeves that set him off, though. He wore shirts like that all the time. What set him off were the black slacks he was wearing. Now, he owned black slacks, but…he was pretty sure none of them had a 'Hugo Boss' label.

"What is it?" Damon must have noticed his confusion.

Jeremy didn't respond. He just reached into his pocket. His fingers closed around cold metal, and he pulled out the object. Jeremy's eyes widened, and Damon muttered an expletive under his breath.

It was a ring. Not as gaudy as the Gilbert rings, or even Damon and Stefan's rings, the ring was a thin band of silver wrapped around a stone so dark blue that it was almost black. The silver band started on one corner of the square stone, swung underneath to form a loop, came back up to cross at the diagonal of the stone, and then ducked back down to form a second loop, ending up in the corner diagonal from the origin. It was an elegant setting, so elegant that it was almost feminine, but somehow…not. What was even more fascinating was that the silver was carved and engraved to look like the bark of a tree. It looked like something Jeremy knew…like something he remembered…but the more he tried to place it, the more the memory escaped him.

Jeremy fingered the silver loops idly in thought, not realized that he'd turned the ring over so that when he finally did look down, he was looking at the silver-plated underbelly of the stone. He cocked his head slightly as he noticed an engraving there.

'JRG'… Jeremy's throat went dry.

Damon took the ring from him to inspect it closer, and he frowned when he saw the engraving. "Your middle name wouldn't happen to start with an 'R', would it?"

Slowly, Jeremy nodded. "Ryan." He said in a small voice. "Jeremy Ryan Gilbert."

They were silent again, because they both knew what stone was set in the ring. Jeremy slipped it onto the third finger of his right hand. The sun had started the peek from the horizon, just a few barely-visible rays showing through the trees of the woods.

With newfound resolve, Jeremy held his hand out from behind the shelter of a tree just enough to let the silver of the ring catch the light. Nothing. No pain, no sizzling of flesh… So he stepped out fully, letting the morning rays wash over him. Still nothing.

"Well." Damon said decisively, folding his arms and stepping up to join Jeremy. "At least we know one thing."

Jeremy frowned and looked at him. "How exactly does this answer anything?"

"Whoever you were with for five years—so most likely, whoever turned you—cared about you enough to _make_ you your own day-walking ring. So I'm betting they cared about you enough to leave more clues to your past."

Oh.

* * *

**A/N:** If you need a better visual of Jeremy's ring, there's a link to a few photos in my profile. I'd also like to reiterate that I do still need a beta for this story. I would love you forever if you decided to help me out! Thanks so much for reading, guys! I'm glad this gets so many views!

~Jean


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Sorry this one took so long! My goal is to be able to update every week on Wednesdays, since (to me) Wednesdays are kinda depressing, so what better way than to up the mood than by posting a new chapter? lol Thank you so much for your kind comments every update, and keep 'em coming!

A huuuuuuge thank you to **Vesuvious**, who so graciously beta'd this chapter for me!

* * *

When he and Damon got back to the boarding house, the sunlight had fully broken through the horizon. Stefan was waiting on the porch for them, his arms crossed and a frown on his face when he saw Jeremy walking in the daylight.

Damon took the steps to the house two at a time and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Don't frown too much, Brother, or you just might break your face." He said with a smile as he waltzed into the house.

Stefan sighed at his brother and turned his attention to Jeremy, who was making his way up the stone steps. Before he could ask the question Jeremy knew he wanted to, Jeremy held up his right hand, displaying the ring.

"It was in my pocket." He explained, taking it off when they made their way into the house and away from any windows. "I think it was made for me, and Damon thinks it could've been the one who turned me."

"But you think it could've been someone else?" Stefan asked, examining the 'JRG' engraving on the underside of the ring before handing it back to Jeremy.

Jeremy shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, just because you turn someone doesn't mean you have to stick around for the aftermath. Plus, you never even questioned my death, and I didn't stick around long enough to give you any reason to."

"So you think someone else could have gotten you out of town, made you the ring, and taken care of you for five years… But it's still a matter of who would do something like that and _not_ tell anyone who cared about you?"

"How about Uncle John Gilbert?" Damon suggested, but the way he said it hinted that Damon knew more than he was telling.

Stefan must have noticed, too, because he started down the hall to find his brother in the common area, and Jeremy was hot on his heels. "What does this have to do with John Gilbert?" his brother asked, trying to coax an answer out of Damon, who was just fiddling with something on the fireplace mantle.

When Damon did turn around, Jeremy could have sworn that he saw guilt in the older vampire's movements. "I knew you were alive." He said, his eyes locked with Jeremy's. "Well, as alive as you could get."

The silence that followed was stifling. Jeremy's head was swimming, and he felt like he could vomit. Anger, sadness, guilt, confusion… The emotions warred inside him, making his vision blacken around the edges.

Stefan finally broke the silence. "And you didn't think about _mentioning_ this to me?" he demanded. "To Elena? Jesus Christ, Damon, what the hell were you thinking?"

"And what would it have changed?" Damon asked plainly. "I caught a _glimpse_ of him across a casino floor a whole year after he died." He shifted his attention to Jeremy. "You looked like you had no intention of going back to Mystic Falls. So if I called you, Stefan, if I called Elena, what exactly would you have expected me to do? Please, I'm open for suggestions."

"We could have helped, Damon—"

"No." Jeremy interjected, his voice surprisingly calm. "If… If I didn't want to leave, nothing could have made me." He reasoned. "Especially if I'm as fast and strong—if not more so—than the two of you. And the fact that you both tense whenever I move just proves my point."

Damon just scoffed. "What does that have to do with anything? And we do not—" But he shut up when Jeremy was, again, inches from him, and neither brother had seen him move.

"Point taken." Stefan murmured, crossing to the liquor cabinet to get himself a drink.

"So you saw me in a casino. Where?"

"Las Vegas."

Jeremy frowned, going to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace. "Why Las Vegas?" he mused, not really expecting an answer.

"You mean besides the fact that it's Las Vegas?" Damon asked with a smirk. But when Jeremy just gave him a look that just said 'not now', he just shrugged. "I don't know. That's what I asked John Gilbert when I saw him." Well that made Jeremy shoot up from his seat.

"He was there? With me?"

"You were talking, though it was more of an argument—"

"Well let's go talk to him."

"Mmm…" Damon teetered his head. "Kind of impossible."

Jeremy was about to ask why, but he put the pieces together quickly. "He's dead." Damon nodded. "And why exactly did you kill the only lead I may have had?" Jeremy asked, flopping back onto the couch and rubbing his forehead. He couldn't really bring himself to care that John was dead, but it would've been nice to have more clues about the missing five years of his life.

"Hey." Damon said sharply, jabbing a finger in Jeremy's face. "I didn't kill him. Wish like hell I did, but I needed more information from him. He made a quick getaway, and the next thing I know, Uncle John is found in a ditch by the highway with his neck snapped, and this time, there's no magic ring to bring him back.

Oh, this was getting better and better. "_More_ information?" Jeremy asked, more than a little peeved. Why couldn't Damon just get all the important details out at once?

"I cornered him once he was alone." Damon explained. "He's the one that got you out of Mystic Falls and set you up in Vegas."

Vegas did make sense, if Jeremy thought about it. It was on the other side of the country, away from anyone that could possibly identify him. People also ran through it on a weekly basis, so there was a very good chance that even if someone recognized Jeremy, they wouldn't be staying for more than a few days. It was also a large enough city, and all the better to blend in. "So if John got me out of town…he knew I'd turn into a vampire."

Damon nodded. "Which means he probably knew who was supplying the vampire blood that got you turned." He said, obviously feeling proud of himself.

Time to knock him down a little. "And Damon Salvatore couldn't even get that one piece of information from a lowly human?"

The vampire's eyebrows went back, and he glared at Jeremy coldly. "Don't make me end you." He said in that deadly tone that teetered on the edge of joking, but didn't quite make it there. "We were interrupted by Housekeeping, and dear Uncle John made a slippery escape. He went missing for a few days and finally turned up in the morgue.

"And you're sure he wasn't…turned? Like someone wanted to make it seem like he died to get you off my trail?" The possibility that Jeremy could have been that 'someone' made him sick, but it was a possibility that had to be explored.

Damon just scoffed, like he didn't want to bother with answering Jeremy's question. "Despite how stupid that question was, I stole the body and torched it, so yeah, I'm pretty sure."

Stefan was the one that actually explained. "John Gilbert would have killed himself before he became a vampire, Jeremy. He'd never let himself be used like that."

Okay, so that made sense. But something else just didn't… "Then why didn't he kill me?" Jeremy wondered aloud. "If he hated vampires so much, why did he take the time and risk to get me out of town? He knew I'd be dangerous. He knew I'd change."

"Yeah," Stefan confirmed. "But you were also his nephew. Sometimes…wanting to save someone you care about makes you do crazy things to keep them with you."

"And you would know all about that, wouldn't you, Stefan?" Damon asked with a knowing smirk. And when his brother gave him a glare, he just shrugged. "You walked right into that one. But Stefan's right. It could've been enough to want to save you."

What they were saying made sense. If John Gilbert were to choose to help one vampire in the world, Jeremy had no doubt that it would be either him or Elena. "So I was staying with John, up until he died. It makes some sense, but there's still…" Before Jeremy could finish his sentence, however, he could see the hesitation on Damon's face. "What? You don't think I was staying with John?"

Damon sighed, scratching the back of his head idly. "He was staying in a one-bed hotel room with a packed bag very recent plane ticket stub."

"So maybe we were passing through, staying in adjacent rooms. Ever think of that?"

"I asked him, Jeremy. You'd been living on your own in the city for a few months."

"If I was living on my own, then I'd have a place to live." Jeremy reasoned. "I must have left some kind of trace to follow—"

"You didn't." Damon cut him off, shaking his head. "I checked for about a week after dear Uncle John went up in flames. You were pretty good about not leaving _any_ trace. No mysterious attacks, no missing blood that was recorded, nothing."

Well now that Jeremy's confidence in finding any clues had all but disappeared, he ran both hands through his hair. "Is there anything else you're not telling me, Damon?" he asked, suddenly angry. "Because seriously, I'd love to get all the life-altering news out before I start piecing together the last five years of my life."

The older vampire's jaw was tight, and his eyes held an emotion Jeremy couldn't quite place…but it reminded him of pity. "John Gilbert may have been a bad guy," Damon started. "But he was, first and foremost, a _tool_." Well, Jeremy couldn't deny that. There wasn't a time Uncle John came into town that he wasn't working with someone or following orders. "And the person who took advantage of that the most was…?"

Jeremy was at a loss, but Stefan didn't seem to be, because he immediately said, "Isobel." And Damon nodded in confirmation.

"Isobel. The bitch always loved to have her hand in any scheme John Gilbert came up with, so maybe she at least knew about this one."

Jeremy's heart was beginning to pump faster now. He actually had a direction to look in now…but there was still a problem. "How exactly am I supposed to find her? And even if I did find her, I don't think she'd want to see me. The last conversation we had, she was holding me hostage."

The look on Damon's face told Jeremy two things. One: he had a plan, and two: Jeremy probably wasn't going to like it. "Elena." He said easily.

Jeremy just stared at him and then shook his head. "Not gonna happen." He wasn't going to drag his sister into this, and he was certain Stefan wouldn't want him to, either. That was, however, until Stefan made his way away from the liquor cabinet, a cautious expression on his face that made Jeremy blink. "Wait… you're okay with this idea? She's my sister, Stefan, and she's _not_ getting involved in this."

"Jeremy—"

"_No_." he said definitively. "How many times did Elena play the 'he's my brother' card when she kept me out of the loop to protect me?"

"I know, but—"

"So how is this any different?" he demanded. "Why are you both so willing to just throw my sister in the fire like this? The last time there was supposed to be an Elena-Isobel meet, I remember both of you fighting like hell against it. What's so different about this time?"

"The difference is," Damon started, taking a few steps closer to Jeremy. "Elena thought you were dead for five years. And now, she knows you're not-so-dead, so she's hopping on a plane and flying down here as we speak."

Jeremy was just dumbfounded. "She…_what?_"

"And when she gets here," he continued, ignoring Jeremy's outburst. "She's going to want…no, _demand_ to help in any way she can. Would _you_ like to be the one to tell her 'no'?"

Jeremy was silent for a moment, and then he answered truthfully, his voice tight, "No."

"Case and point."

Everything was settled, then. Jeremy knew he was outnumbered, and nothing he could say would convince the Salvatore brothers otherwise. It was clear he was itching to say something else, but Jeremy held his tongue and looked past Damon at Stefan. "Is there somewhere I can lie down? I'm kind of drained."

Stefan sighed and nodded. "First door at the top of the stairs."

Jeremy avoided Damon's gaze and made his way up the stairs. But as soon as he got to the room and closed the door behind him, Jeremy went straight for the window.

"You're unbelievably predictable."

Jeremy sighed heavily and turned to face Damon. "I'm not letting her get involved in this."

"Newsflash," Damon snapped. "She was involved the second you turned up."

"You didn't tell her a thing when you saw me in Las Vegas." He pointed out. "What did you do? Develop a conscience between then and now?"

"I turned on the emotions you seem to have turned off." Damon said coldly. "If I didn't know that you'd completely suck as a spy, I would think you were headed out that window for a clean getaway."

"I was. I don't want Elena involved. Her life has been hard enough, and I don't want to make it harder." Jeremy said as he turned to leave through the window, but he stopped when he heard Damon chuckle.

"You're an inconsiderate bastard." He said almost gleefully, which made Jeremy turn around.

"…Great comeback, Damon. Should I reply with 'it takes one to know one'?"

"I mean, I knew 'Emo Jeremy', I knew 'Puppy Love Jeremy', and I knew 'Stupidly Brave Jeremy', but 'Inconsiderate Bastard Jeremy', now that's a new one."

Jeremy's jaw was clenched. "Where the _hell_ do you get off—"

"No," Damon cut him off with a growl, his voice rising. "Where do _you_ get off deciding who knows what and when they know it? It's not for you to decide."

"Oh, that's rich." Jeremy countered with a scoff. "Coming from you? The guy that makes split-second decisions that affect everyone's lives? And most of the time, they almost get you killed, if it weren't for the rest of us—"

"Except that people don't care about _me_, Jeremy." The room, which had been filled with their raised voices, was now silent and tense.

"I know people care about me—"

"If you did, then you'd realize that coming back here—you know, that thing you _didn't_ do before for whatever reason—was probably the best thing that could've happened right now."

And again, Jeremy was silent. That…had honestly never crossed Jeremy's mind. "That's not how I see it." He said quietly.

Damon shrugged his eyebrows. "You don't have to." He stated. "But you should think about the shitstorm Stefan and I'll have to deal with when Elena arrives to see her baby brother back from the dead, and you're not there." Despite Damon being Damon, he said the words in a sober tone, not mocking or teasing…just saying. Damon was about to leave, but Jeremy stopped him.

"Why do you care?" It was an incredibly naïve question, but Jeremy had to know. "We weren't close. Last I checked, you only tolerated me because Elena asked you to."

Damon just smirked. "How do you know I'm not still tolerating you for Elena's sake?" But that smirk was frayed at the edges, and Jeremy picked up on it right away.

"Because you're helping me." He pointed out. "You're helping me put the pieces together, pointing me in the right direction. You say 'we' all the time, like I'm not going to be alone in this. That goes beyond tolerating me. So why?"

Damon paused for a moment, and then he sighed. "Because I know what it's like. Not having anybody." Jeremy frowned and was about to say something, but Damon continued. "Not knowing which way is up or down because there's no one there—there's not that…solid ground to fall back on. So yes." He nodded. "I know what it's like." And then he just turned and left, and this time, Jeremy did nothing to stop him.

It hadn't exactly been an answer, and yet…in a way, it was. Jeremy knew that things were different, but he was just only beginning to wrap his mind around just how much the _people_ were different. His chat with Damon had shed some light on that fact.

Jeremy sighed and took one look at the sheet-less, pillow-less mattress, and he remembered thinking that he could use some sleep.

What Jeremy wouldn't remember when he woke up later that day—in a fully-made bed and his face plastered to a pillow—was how he actually got there.

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**A/N:** Dun dun DUNNNNNNNNNN bwahahahaha evil cliffhanger is evil. Next chapter is proving hard for me to write, but I'll get it to you guys.

Thanks so much for reading!

~Jean


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Annnnnd here we have chapter 5. So remember that 'weekly update' thing I promised? Yeeeeeah well it doesn't look like that's going to happen. I'm going to keep chugging away at this story, though. I'm loving where it's heading, and I hope you're all in for a wild ride.

As a side note, this chapter took me so long to post because I couldn't write Elena for the life of me. So I blame her. That is all.

A special thanks to **Vesuvious** for putting up with me and beta-ing this story! If you love you some Jyler, go check out his profile!

* * *

It was the smell that woke him more than anything.

No…that was a lie. It was her heartbeat. The sound made Jeremy's eyes open. Elena was downstairs. He listened a little more and learned that she'd only just arrived. She and Stefan exchanged words that Jeremy didn't want to hear, and then Damon was talking, and then there was more yelling—mostly on Elena's part.

Jeremy decided it would probably be a good idea to intervene, but sleep still had a hold on him, and he didn't want it to let go just yet. He rolled over, burying his face into his pillow and pulling the covers over his head…and then he remembered.

Rather, he _didn't_ remember. Jeremy pushed himself halfway up and frowned. The bed was fully made, and he could have sworn that it hadn't been when he first laid down. And come to think of it…Jeremy didn't even remember ever laying down, either. He didn't think he'd been that tired, but then again, there was no telling how long it had been since he'd last slept. He was even still in the clothes he'd been wearing, so Jeremy wasn't that worried. He pushed the covers off of his body and got out of bed.

What did worry him, however, were the footsteps he could hear clear as day: the sound of someone coming up the stairs. A mad-as-hell sister, perhaps? Jeremy actually took a few steps back from the door as it opened. He wasn't afraid of what Elena would say as much as he was just…afraid. Elena opened the door, and Jeremy didn't know what to expect.

The first thing that occurred to Jeremy was that his sister looked just as apprehensive as he was. It was as if they each expected the other to have changed beyond recognition. It was a reasonable fear, considering the circumstances, but when Jeremy really looked at her, all he could see was his sister. Granted, her hair was shorter. It was only just below her ears now. She'd also gained a healthy tan, probably from walking outside to and from classes. She also looked tired, but who wouldn't be, after being woken up at six in the morning on a Saturday and immediately catching a plane? Finding out that her brother wasn't so dead might also have contributed to her weathered look.

As he looked at her, Jeremy could tell that she was looking at him. She eyed him with a caution that confused him until he realized…she was making sure he was real. "Still don't bother knocking?" he asked, a joking smile tugging at his lips so she could see his (failed) attempt at humor.

Jeremy saw her jaw tremble a bit, but she surged forward and crossed the space between them, and he met her for a 'welcome back' hug. Elena clung to him like she'd never let go—or she was still making sure he was real. But eventually, the position grew awkward for Jeremy because of his height. "…Elena?"

"Mm?" was all he got for a response.

"As much as I've missed you, my back can only take so much…"

But his sister just gave a harrumph and squeezed him tighter. "Shut up, Jer." She said, but she let them slide apart easily.

"So…" Now that they were awkwardly separated instead of awkwardly hugging, Jeremy didn't exactly know how to start a conversation with Elena. To him, they'd only just talked a day or two ago. But Elena hadn't seen him in five years. But apparently she wasn't having the same problems Jeremy was.

"I didn't know what I was hearing, at first." She said. Jeremy had a moment to be confused before she explained. "I just answered a call from Damon, and I could hear you and Stefan fighting." She smiled like she was making fun of herself. "At first, I thought I was dreaming. And then Stefan told me you showed up here and that you were…"

Jeremy almost couldn't stand the look of pity on Elena's face when she averted her eyes, unable to say the words. But Jeremy resolved not to force the issue. "What did he tell you?"

"He said you couldn't remember anything since…" Jeremy saw the hesitation, but then he saw the resolve. "Since you died."

Jeremy nodded and went to sit on the edge of the bed. "It's weird." He murmured. "I feel like I just talked to you last night, and then…I find out I didn't."

"Weird for you?" Elena asked, taking a seat next to him and tucking her hair behind her ear. "You died and came back as a vampire. I _buried_ you."

Since his sister cracked a smile when she said the words, Jeremy knew it was okay to chuckle. "Yeah…" he said, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry about that." But then the joking was over, and he added, "I'm sorry you and Jenna had to go through that again. I never would've done that to you, if I'd known I'd turn."

She looked at him then, and Jeremy saw the question in her eyes before she asked it. "Then why didn't you come back?"

Jeremy shook his head slowly. "I don't know. But if I didn't come back, it was probably for a good reason. Maybe to protect you from whoever turned me—"

"Like you tried to protect me this morning?" Jeremy should have seen that one coming.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that I wouldn't know anything if I hadn't answered that phone call."

"Elena—"

"No, Jeremy." she cut him off softly. "You don't get to decide if or when I find out my brother is alive. That's something I deserve to know. That is my _right_—"

"So it's not okay for me to keep this from you, but it was just fine when you erased my memory?" Jeremy demanded. "You can't have it both ways, Elena."

It took Elena a minute to respond, as if she were gathering her thoughts. "I told you before. You were broken, Jeremy. I did that to protect you—"

"How is that any different from me wanting to protect you? After five years, you were _healing_, Elena—"

"Because I _knew_ Vicki wasn't coming back!" Elena shouted, and Jeremy could see tears forming, glossing over her eyes. "She was never coming back, and you would _always_ feel that pain. Sometimes, I thought about having Stefan erase my memory, too." She said, her voice breaking just enough to make Jeremy's heart lurch. When she continued, her voice regained a little of its strength. "But I could never just give up my memories of you like that. I didn't want to. I know erasing Vicki's death was wrong… You should have decided for yourself. I know that now, but Jeremy…" She turned toward him and cupped his face with one hand. "I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. You would have wanted to know what happened to Vicki, just like I wanted to know what happened to you."

After she was done, Jeremy just sat there, processing his sister's words. She was right. But Elena was right most of the time, just like he didn't think things through most of the time. And if the situations were reversed…he admitted he would be pretty pissed. So after a few moments of silence, Jeremy just pulled his sister close again and let her all but crumple against him.

"Okay." Jeremy said when they pulled apart. "I'm sorry. It's just…instinct, you know? Wanting to protect you."

Elena laughed a little at that. "Yeah, I know the feeling."

"And with Stefan here, I didn't want to cause any problems between—" but he stopped when Elena held up a hand.

"No. Don't go there. Any problems we have or _have had_ have nothing to do with you."

"Did you even think about it, though?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you broke up with him." Jeremy explained, watching his sister go still. "Did you think it through before you broke up with him?"

She frowned and shook her head. "Of course I did, but Jer…I don't want to talk about me and Stefan. I want to know what's going on with you. Stefan said something about going to meet Isobel, but he said I should ask you about it. So I'm asking."

Jeremy knew it was a deflection tactic. Elena _hadn't_ thought out her decision, but she wasn't going to admit it—not even to herself. But it would come full circle later, Jeremy knew that, but he let it go, for the moment. "They think Isobel might know something about who turned me." He shifted his body to face more towards his sister. "Are you in contact with her anymore? Or do you know of a way to get in contact with her?"

"She gave me a phone number where I could reach her." Elena said, nodding. "It was five years ago, though, so I don't know if it still works."

Five years… "Five years?" he repeated. "I thought the last time you saw her was the Founder's Day fiasco." And that had been six years ago. It could have been a simple mistake, or…

"She…" Elena hesitated, pursing her lips in that way she did when she didn't want to say something. "She came to the funeral. Specifically Rick's, but…it was yours, too."

And there it was. Isobel had been in town at the time of his death, and Jeremy wasn't entirely convinced that she'd just popped into town for her ex's funeral. She'd probably been in town at least a few days—possibly a week—and most likely in the company of one John Gilbert.

Before, it had been possible that Isobel knew something regarding his five-year disappearance from Mystic Falls. But now, Jeremy was almost positive that she'd been in on it. She knew something, and if he could get to her, he'd finally have answers. The thought exhilarated him.

"I know that look, Jer."

Elena's voice was what drew Jeremy from his thoughts. He looked at her with a questioning smile. "What look?"

"The look that says you're connecting the dots. So fill me in. I want to connect the dots." She stated. "Hell, I just want some dots to connect."

Jeremy had to smile at that. He still wanted to protect Elena, but he had to admit that he was just glad to have his sister with him.

So Jeremy started talking. He started with waking up in the woods and running to Stefan after he couldn't get into their house. He skipped the gory details of his first drink of blood—that he could remember—and showed her his ring. They both agreed that it could have been the vampire that changed him that had given him the ring, but then Jeremy mentioned John as being a possibility. It took several minutes to stop the questions flying out of Elena's mouth.

He explained what John had told Damon—which sent Elena into another episode of rage-filled questions—and then he explained that all the roads led to Isobel, at that point. "That's why I need to find her, get her to meet me."

Elena nodded. "Right. Well, I'll go get in touch with her, and we can set a meeting time and place. Neutral meeting ground for all of us."

Jeremy's expression must have shown how uncomfortable he was with the phrase 'all of us', because Elena held up a finger. "I don't want to hear it, Jer. I'm coming with. And I don't think Stefan or Damon would appreciate us going without them."

Jeremy just shrugged and held up his hands. "I never said anything."

"Well good. I learned before that it's not just 'you'. It's not just 'you against the world'. You're not alone, Jer." She added softly, albeit insistently.

Jeremy was silent for a moment, processing her words, before he nudged her gently with his shoulder. "Way to be corny, Elena." He said with a smile, which his sister returned, and punched his arm in retaliation.

"Way to be an idiot." She quipped, and reached into her back pocket for her phone. But when she started to stand, Jeremy caught her arm.

"Where're you going?" he asked.

"To call Isobel." Elena replied, like he had to be reminded.

"Can you…" Jeremy hesitated. "Can it wait?"

Elena looked confused. "I thought you'd want to meet her as soon as possible—"

"No, no, I do, it's just… I want to know what's been going on." He finally said, looking down at his feet. "With you and Jenna and—"

"Oh my God, Jer." Elena had caught on and then started shuffling through her clutch purse. "I completely forgot! It didn't even cross my mind. Stefan and Damon told you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Man…Aunt Jenna with a baby…"

"Well, he's not a baby anymore." Elena said, handing Jeremy the strip of photographs—probably taken in a photo booth.

The eyes were the first thing Jeremy noticed. A bright green, shining with the brimming energy of a five-year-old. And then Jeremy noticed the hair, and he smiled. "Red hair, green eyes." He murmured.

"Yeah," Elena said, leaning in to look at the pictures with him. "He looks just like Jenna, but he's got Rick's facial expressions."

And it was true. The boy's smile was exactly like Rick's, it was infectious. Jeremy couldn't even keep himself from smiling as he looked at the pictures. They were simple, each frame having the boy in a different position with either Elena or Jenna, and then the final one was a shot of all three of them making funny faces into the camera.

Jeremy ran his fingers along the edges of the strip lightly before he turned it over. On the back, 'Patrick, 5 yrs' was written in an elegant scrawl he recognized as Elena's handwriting, along with 'May 2016'.

"Patrick Ryan." Elena said, smiling when Jeremy looked over at her with surprised eyes. "'Patrick' means 'noble', just like 'Alaric'. We even call him 'Rick' sometimes. And 'Ryan' is—"

"My middle name." Jeremy finished, looking back at the pictures with a smile, his eyes growing more and more distant. Finally, he brought himself back from his thoughts and handed the picture back to Elena. "How's Georgetown?"

Elena's face immediately lit up with a smile, and she put a hand to her forehead. "Of course you'd want to know." She said, chuckling at herself, and she sat back down to tell him everything.

And she really did tell him everything. She talked about moving, first. Like Stefan had told him, neither she nor Jenna wanted to live in Mystic Falls anymore. Sure, it had been the family's home for generations, but then…there were just too many bad memories and more than enough ghosts to run from. Elena had her eyes on Georgetown University, and she hadn't even applied before Jenna decided that it was as good a place as any—especially to raise a child.

That had been rough, Elena explained. She had wanted to take a year off from high school to work for some money, but Jenna wouldn't hear of it. Patrick had been born in January of 2012, and Elena finished her remaining two years of high school. She'd already been accepted to Georgetown, majoring in Literature, but Elena had, again, wanted to take a year off to help with Patrick. The two strong women had settled on having Elena attend college, but continue to live in their three-bedroom loft in Georgetown, which was about twenty minutes from the university.

And that was how the past five years had gone. Elena was now a junior, and had a summer internship with a publishing company. Patrick would be entering Kindergarten in the fall, and Jenna had finished graduate school and now worked as a teacher's aide, and she occasionally taught her own classes. She made good money, all things considering.

Jeremy took everything in slowly, as if his mind just didn't want to process the information. It was all so new. How couldn't he have known? How could he have stayed away? Jeremy started to run though all the scenarios in his mind. What if he hadn't died? Well…they'd be back in Mystic Falls, for one. But even if he had died and came back as a vampire and _actually stayed_, what would have happened then?

"You're thinking too hard." Elena told him, brushing some hair absently behind her brother's ear.

Jeremy nodded with an almost bitter smile. "I missed so much." He murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what's up and what's down anymore. Everything's changed."

Elena pursed her lips at first, but then she made a non-committal noise and shrugged, nudging his shoulder with hers again. "We'll get you caught up." She promised. "Starting with Isobel."

* * *

**A/N:** Like it? Hate it? Let me know!

~Jeannie


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: I'd like to take this time to thank all of you for reading this story so far! It's turning out to be a wild ride, so thanks for hanging on. But speaking of hanging on, I want to point out that this story is and has always been planned to be **slash**, as in male/male pairing. I'm warning you now, because there is definitely some manlove going on later in this chapter, and definitely later on in this story.

Again, thank ya'll so much for your positive response, and happy reading!

~Jean

* * *

Elena made the phone call to Isobel that afternoon—with Jeremy and Stefan hovering nearby, while Damon poured himself a drink—but Jeremy frowned when he heard the three-note tone from the other end. He caught the computer-generated voice start its spiel. _"The number you have reached—_" and then Elena hung up before it could continue. Jeremy was even more confused when Elena gave a nod and just looked at him with a smile. "Now we wait."

Apparently, Stefan was confused, too, because he immediately asked, "For what?"

Elena was about to answer, but her phone buzzed, and she looked between the two of them with a small, triumphant smile. "See? It's a system we came up with. I call the disconnected number, and it gets logged. Then Isobel texts me with our codeword." She displayed her phone for both of them to see.

"'Doppelganger'?" Jeremy asked incredulously. "Way to be subtle."

His sister shrugged as she typed out a text. "The only people that know about Isobel's and my connection are either in this room, dead, or they don't care anymore."

"She means Elijah." Damon cut in with a smile that gave the impression he was glad the Original wasn't in the picture anymore.

Something tugged at Jeremy's subconscious, but he ignored it when Stefan piped in.

"He left right after the funerals." He explained. "He doesn't keep in contact, but we keep an ear to the ground just in case."

"He's still not involved." Elena pointed out, finishing up her text. "And I'm not complaining about it. In the end, he didn't really care about anyone but himself."

"You sound so surprised." Damon said flatly.

"Speaking of selfish vampires…" Jeremy looked up at all of them. "What ever happened to Katherine? Did she burn up during the raid, too?"

Damon turned away and Stefan just sighed, looking down. And that was all the answer Jeremy needed. "She got away." He concluded.

"Not exactly," Damon chimed in. "She's in the basement."

Jeremy looked a little dumbfounded. "The basement…?" he repeated. "You just have her locked up in a room down there?"

"Oh, definitely not. We buried her under a few feet of concrete." The oldest brother said with another smile. "And Bonnie did the witchy Tomb enchantment. No vampires can get out."

The youngest vampire just blinked at the pair of brothers. "Isn't that a little overkill?"

"_No_." was the answer that resonated from all three of the other people in the room.

Elena's phone buzzed again, and she took a moment to read it. "She wants to meet day after tomorrow in Atlanta."

Damon frowned. "Whatever happened to a 'neutral meeting ground'? We don't know anything about Atlanta, or what connections Mommy Dearest may have there."

"She said that we can set the location." Stefan explained. "So someplace crowded, where we can blend in, if we have to."

Elena and Jeremy shared a smile before they both said, "The Georgia Aquarium." Elena was already typing up a text, but the Salvatore brothers were confused.

"An _aquarium_?" Damon questioned, even after both Gilberts shot him a look. "Completely lame."

"Our parents took us there when we were kids." Jeremy defended. "It's like, nine acres, and it's crowded all year long, so Isobel can't try anything unless she wants to be outed."

"And," Elena chimed in as she finished her text and slid her phone closed. "It's cheap."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We'd better get a move on if we're gonna make it to Atlanta by day after tomorrow." He said and pushed off of the liquor cabinet, walking out of the room. Jeremy followed him out and caught him by the staircase.

"Damon, hold up. Listen—"

"No."

Jeremy blinked at the older vampire with a baffled frown. "You don't even know—"

Damon rounded on him. "Yeah, I do know what you were going to say." He snapped. "And the answer is still. No. No, you're not going alone, and no, I'm not locking Elena in the basement."

Jeremy sighed. "Look, Damon—"

But Damon wouldn't let Jeremy get a word in edgewise. "I thought we already had this conversation. Why are you still here?" When he turned to go, Jeremy caught his arm and was met with an icy glare.

"Just…" he sighed heavily again. "Thanks, okay? Thank you."

Damon paused a moment, and then he gave one of his trademark half-smile, half-grimaces that was gone in a split-second. "Mmm. Fine. Go get your stuff and meet at the car in an hour."

"Wait," Jeremy made Damon stop again, and the older vampire hung his head before turning around to face Jeremy with a fake smile. "I don't have any clothes. Or anything to pack, really."

Damon nodded upwards to the second floor. "Elena said she brought some stuff for you. Should be in her room."

And indeed, it was. 'It' was a small duffel that Elena had packed full with essentials. Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant—did he even need all that anymore?—along with underwear, some jeans, and a few shirts. Jeremy didn't recognize any of it, so they probably weren't his clothes, but when he went back to his room to change, all of it fit pretty well.

Elena had done a good job of packing, so there really wasn't much for Jeremy to do. He looked at his watch—noting that it was, again, not his, seeing as he couldn't afford to _look_ at a Rolex, let alone _buy_ one—and saw that he had more than a half-hour to kill.

Except that apparently, Jeremy just couldn't read a watch to save his life. He blinked, clearing his gaze and saw that he had ten minutes—not thirty. Well, that was fine, too, except that Jeremy knew he was going to be a little late.

By the time he'd splashed his face with a little water to clear the slight fog developing in his head and made it out to the garage, he was late, and Damon was already sitting in the Camaro, very blatantly glaring at Jeremy.

"I lost track of time—"

"Put your stuff in the trunk, and let's _go_. Get a move on." He popped the trunk, and Jeremy stuffed his bag next to Damon's before he slid into the back seat, which made Damon cast him a questioning look in the rearview mirror. "What's your problem?" he asked, eyeing the way Jeremy gingerly laid down in the back seat.

"Nothing." Was the muttered reply as he draped an arm over his eyes. "Just a headache." It had come up when he made his way out to the garage, and now it was sufficiently clawing at the backs of his eyeballs.

Jeremy frowned as he noticed that he hadn't heard Stefan or Elena out and about. He also remembered that Stefan's car was still in the garage, untouched and uninhabited. "Where are Stefan and Elena?"

"Don't sound so gleeful." Damon chided as he pulled out of the boarding house's driveway and onto the street. "I told them we would be leaving…oh…about two hours from now."

That made Jeremy stare at him, and then the younger Gilbert smiled. "Well look at that." He mused. "Damon Salvatore does care."

"What?"

"Come on, Damon. My sister, your brother? In a car? Together. For nine hours. You can't tell me you didn't plan that."

"I don't know what you're talking about." But it came out a little too fast to be believable.

Jeremy just laughed at him, shaking his head as he closed his eyes again. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Damon."

The other vampire snorted. "Damn right. Now make yourself useful." With that, he tossed his iPod to Jeremy in the back seat.

"Fine." Jeremy replied and took advantage of this golden opportunity to gain insight to the psychotic paramount that was Damon's psyche—via his music collection. First, Jeremy browsed songs, and found classics that he had expected, but the surprise came when he went to the artists. He blinked up at Damon with a "dude, really?" look. "Katy Perry?"

Damon shrugged. "She only has one song that I like."

"…'E.T.'?"

Damon gave that Cheshire grin and shrugged. "I thought it was ironic. And it's ridiculously catchy."

The song's synthesized intro and Katy Perry's voice came through the Camaro's speakers.

_You're so hypnotizing  
Could you be the devil  
Could you be an angel_

Jeremy just laughed. "You _would_ like this song."

"At least I don't listen to complete crap."

_Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me_

_Infect me with your love and_

_Fill me with your poison_

"And what exactly would you call this?"

"Better than what you listen to."

They fell into easy banter then, debating back and forth about music until they finally agreed on listening to the complete discography of The Beatles. Throughout the drive, Jeremy's headache just wouldn't go away. Every shift on the highway made his head throb, and try as he might, he just couldn't get to sleep. But somewhere between "Imagine" and "I Want to Hold Your Hand", he managed to slip into unconsciousness.

_Jeremy couldn't remember what he was doing in the dream. He could have been taming elephants or cooking, but all of that left him when strong arms circled his waist, pulling him with a steel-like grip back towards a slight but firm form. _

_He didn't tense. He knew who this was. He groaned at the feeling of lips trailing up the back of his neck, raising the hairs there and lighting the nerves up and down Jeremy's spine. The goosebumps started when the kisses did. Each press of those lips to his skin sent shivers rippling over the surface. Once they reached his pulse…Jeremy couldn't help the sigh that escaped him._

_But he hadn't even finished the sigh when he felt the sharp tug on his hips, and he was facing the muscled form. The lips did not stop. Jeremy tipped his head back and closed his eyes as the lips trailed over every inch of his neck, nipping at the pulse and making him shiver all over again, even though his body was becoming unbearably hot. _

_His fingers dug into sandy-blond hair and wrenched those lips away from his too-hot, too-cold skin and connected them with his own. They were both hungry in the kiss, as if this were one area that neither would lie back nor take quietly. Groans filled Jeremy's ears—not all of which were his own—especially when he swiped his teeth just so along the other's bottom teeth. Their tongues entwined and explored with a lazy and relaxed balance of give and take. Jeremy's thumb came up to idly stroke the flesh beneath the other man's ear, causing the muscled form to tense and then melt into the touch with a strangled groan._

_Jeremy was suddenly pressed against some unseen wall, and his mouth was occupied again. The firm body was pressed into him, moving against him, gripping his hips and those lips murmured obscenities as they moved down his neck again. Again, they left their cold fire with every sweep of a tongue, graze of teeth, and Jeremy could only groan._

"_Elijah,"_

_Jeremy shivered when those lips curled into what he knew was a smirk._

Jeremy wasn't sure if it was the dream or the music that woke him. Either way, he was _extremely_ glad that he was awake…

Or he would have been, if there wasn't one…not-so-small problem between his legs. And what was worse, Jeremy could feel the car slowing down to pull off of the main highway. He looked out the window to see a gas station.

Wonderful.

Not only were they _not_ at their destination yet, but Damon just had to pick _that moment_ to stop for gas. And what was better, a blood bag nearly smacked him in the face—and still managed to land in a _very_ uncomfortable spot. Jeremy hid his apparent discomfort with a groan of confusion and sat up, practically hiding from Damon in the rearview mirror.

"Time for your meal, Your Highness." Damon said with a very mocking smile as he got out of the Camero. "And don't drink that in my car."

Needless to say, it took Jeremy a little time before he felt up to doing any moving whatsoever. Which meant that he could do some thinking. That turned out not to be a good idea.

Because every time Jeremy's mind went blank, he kept feeling those lips against his—Elijah's lips, he reminded himself…and then his problem was back, all over again. When Jeremy wasn't thinking about Elijah's lips, he was thinking about what the hell they were actually doing in his _dreams_. What did Elijah have anything to do with this? Maybe he knew more about the five years missing from Jeremy's life. And maybe that was worth going to the trouble of contacting him. Jeremy made a note to at least mention it to the rest.

But that dream… It felt like so much more than just a dream. _A memory, _was the fleeting thought that crossed Jeremy's mind, but was immediately dismissed. He convinced himself that it couldn't have been a memory…that his mind was simply trying to get his attention somehow, but Jeremy didn't spend too much time thinking about it. He didn't want to dwell on something that was probably a fluke, anyway.

All that thinking seemed to be enough medicine for his problem, so Jeremy got out of the car and demolished his blood bag just in time to see Damon heading back from the station.

"So how long was I out?" Jeremy asked, leaning against the door as he watched Damon start to fill the tank.

"Five hours."

That certainly got his attention. "Five hours?"

"The last major city we hit was Charlotte."

Jeremy raised his eyebrows and folded his arms across his chest. "Wow. Hey, have you heard from Elena and Stefan?"

Damon smirked. "Oh yeah, I heard from them."

"Didn't go well?"

"Oh no, it was perfectly pleasant. Though I think the term 'passive-aggressive' applied to both of them when they took turns talking to me." The gas meter clicked, and Jeremy pushed off of the car.

"Want me to drive?"

Damon looked at him like he'd spoken in a different language. "No." he spat out, putting the nozzle back in its place and closing the Camaro's gas tank. "Back in the car."

Jeremy laughed and held up his hands in surrender and headed to the other side of the Camaro. "Hey, man, just trying to help."

"Try in different ways."

The younger vampire was still amused when he slid into the passenger's seat this time. He plucked the iPod from the cup holder and started flipping through again. After another heated debate about Damon's questionable selection of songs, they agreed on a few albums of ACDC and continued on their way.

* * *

**A/N2:** Okay, what did ya'll think? Surprised? Totally not surprised? Let me know!

As always, a thank you goes out to **Vesuvious**, who constantly puts up with my backwards way of writing and suggests wonderful plot twists and turns.

~Jean


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Well, lovely readers, if you've stuck around this long, I thank you so much for putting up with me! I'm happy to say that we have reached the point of fast updates. I'll be updating this on Wednesdays, as originally planned, because Wednesdays are just a depressing day, wouldn't you agree? Not as depressing as Mondays, but not as jubilant as Fridays.

As usual, a humongous thank you to **Vesuvious** for beta-ing this chapter, especially since he has a million and one things to do and took the time to help me get this out. Show him some love! Read his amazing stories!

ANYWAYYYYYY On to the chapter! Srsly, guys. Thank you SOOOO much for putting up with my erratic updating patterns. Hope ya'll enjoy!

~Jeannie

* * *

Parking at the aquarium was a bitch, even at nine in the morning. Elena and Stefan had woken up before Damon and Jeremy and pounded on their motel room door to wake them up—probably as retaliation for sticking them together in a car _and_ a room for the remainder of their Atlanta excursion. So after several expletives, blood bags, and espresso shots for the only human in their group, they made their way to the aquarium.

"Why would anyone want to see a giant fish tank?" Damon grumbled after they'd gotten their hands stamped and were headed into the first main exhibit.

"This fish tank has over eight million gallons of water spread over nine acres of land." Jeremy pointed out, and Elena chimed in with, "Largest aquarium in the world."

But Damon still didn't seem to be impressed. "Great, so it's just a really _big_ fish tank." He stopped to look at a pack of grouper swimming lazily in the first exhibit. "With really ugly fish." Then, a large shadow passed by the viewing window, and the grouper scattered.

"Manta ray." Jeremy explained, going to stand by Damon as the beast passed. "They have four now. They even have four whale sharks and four beluga whales, last I heard."

Damon snorted and crossed his arms at his chest. "Nerd." But he didn't take his eyes off the animal until it passed. "So where exactly are we supposed to meet her?" he asked Elena, who was enthralled by a passing sea turtle.

"Fifth exhibit. Whale sharks and jellyfish."

"Tell me again why we aren't headed straight there?"

"Because we came all this way, and you made _me_ pick up the parking _and_ the tickets." Elena shot back without looking away from the exhibit.

Damon shrugged. "Good point, but it was your fault. You said it was free."

"I can't help it if they changed their prices!"

"As fun as this is," Damon droned, ignoring Elena. "Can we hurry along, kiddies?" He shot a look to his brother that Jeremy picked up in their reflection. It was a look that said that Damon was nervous, and frankly, Jeremy couldn't blame him. Even though this was a place filled with happy memories, they were about to meet a vampire notorious for her lack of loyalties, not to mention her disregard for human life. Things could go south very quickly.

"We'll make it quick." He replied, making eye contact with Damon before heading into the next exhibit. He knew Elena would grumble, but she'd be right behind him in no time.

So they made it through the second exhibit, stopping to admire the freshwater electric fish and piranha before they stopped into the third exhibit, adequately named _Dolphin Tales_. They spared Damon the half-hour long dolphin entertainment show and skipped the feeding session. Just seeing the bottle-nosed dolphins play with each other and surprise their trainers was enough for Jeremy and Elena. Stefan let them have their fun while Damon grumbled in a corner.

They spent a good amount of time in the fourth exhibit, _Cold Water Quest_. That exhibit seemed to be a winner all around. The penguin area was completely dark to imitate the time of year in the penguins' natural habitat. Elena was a bit disappointed, but Stefan was able to make up for it by detailing everything the penguins were doing. Having incredible vision really did pay off sometimes. Jeremy glanced over when he heard Elena laugh at something Stefan said, and he had to smile. Even Damon seemed to be enjoying himself, watching the beluga whales bumble around in the water clumsily.

But Damon made them leave soon enough, and they made it into the fifth exhibit, _Ocean Voyage_. They didn't have much time to admire the four whale sharks before Isobel made her appearance.

Jeremy spotted her first. Rather, he and Isobel found each other at the exact same moment. Their eyes met, and Jeremy saw the other vampire freeze in shock. And then she took off in a blur.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Damon—who probably saw this coming a mile ahead—was at the exit in a flash, blocking Isobel's path with his trademark grin. Stefan, a little slower than his brother, appeared behind her and trapped her between them.

"Calm down," he said, holding up his hands. "We don't want to make a scene." Everyone's gaze flickered to the tourists enjoying the exhibit, completely oblivious to the extremely probable disaster around them.

Isobel, however, didn't seem convinced at Stefan's attempt at diplomacy. She looked over her shoulder and once again met Jeremy's confused gaze before turning towards Stefan, but she was careful not to turn her back fully to Damon. "Elena said you wanted information, not an ambush."

"An ambush is the last thing on our minds." Stefan assured her. "All we want is to talk."

"Then why is he here?" she demanded, her gaze still fixed to Jeremy.

"Yeah," Damon mused, crossing his arms. "That's where we're confused, too. Because last we saw him, he was in the ground. But you," He pointed, closing in on her. "You took one look at him and ran. Why?" The amused look was gone from Damon's face, and Jeremy wondered exactly what the other vampire would do to Isobel if she didn't answer.

Isobel looked at Jeremy again, this time with a sparkle of disbelief in her cocoa-brown eyes. "You didn't tell them." It wasn't a question, and she didn't continue, but Stefan pressed forward.

"He doesn't remember anything."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, Isobel looked back to Stefan almost mockingly. "Oh really? According to who?"

"I really don't remember anything." Jeremy insisted, taking a step towards the group of three. But when Isobel fixed him with those hard, unconvinced eyes again, Jeremy frowned and asked, "Why don't you believe me? Last I remember, _you_ were the one who kidnapped _me_. So what did I ever do to you?"

They were all silent for a moment, with Isobel and Jeremy staring at each other, and everyone else watching them intently until finally, Isobel stepped toward Jeremy. She grabbed his face with one hand and looked into his eyes directly.

"No vervain," she murmured after a moment and then took a few steps back.

Jeremy's frown deepened. "Vervain?"

"Why would that matter?" Stefan asked, but Isobel ignored him.

"You don't remember _anything_?" Jeremy shook his head. "What about recently? Are there gaps in time that you can't remember properly, or even completely?"

"I don't—"

"It can be as simple as not remembering how or why you went into a room, or maybe losing track of time."

Jeremy immediately thought about the unmade bed he had suddenly been sleeping in, and then about the thirty minutes he'd thought he'd had, but had chalked it up to misreading the time. Everyone must have seen the hesitation clearly written on his face, because everyone seemed to be waiting for him expectantly. Elena said his name softly and put a hand on his shoulder when he sighed. "It's only happened twice."

That didn't seem to be good news to anyone.

"When?" Elena asked.

"Before you came upstairs to see me at the boarding house. I had just finished talking to Damon, and then…I woke up from a nap a few hours later."

"And the second time?"

"Before Damon and I left. I was getting my things together…I thought I had time, but then I looked at my watch, and it was time to leave. I thought I just looked at my watch wrong, I didn't know…"

"What do you think is screwing with him?" Damon asked Isobel, who gave him a condescending look.

"You can't smell him?" She scoffed, looking back at Jeremy. "You're drowning in his scent."

Damon muttered an expletive, and Stefan started to brood quietly while Elena remained confused and Jeremy was completely silent. Elena was the first one to say anything.

"Who?"

Isobel's gaze was steady and cold on Jeremy as she answered her daughter's question. "Elijah."

Jeremy's mouth went dry, and his vision started to swim with the emotions that tried to fight their way to the surface. He was becoming more and more aware of the emotions plaguing him, fighting constantly to keep them at bay because if he didn't…Jeremy had a hunch that the result wouldn't be pleasant for any unlucky passersby. But he _needed_ answers.

"He made me, didn't he?"

For a moment, Isobel was silent, but she answered after she shifted slightly. "Why do you think you're stronger and faster than the rest? Of course he made you."

"Why?"

"Why does Elijah do anything? John asked him, and he agreed. From then on, Elijah owned him. But before you ask, I don't know if he ever collected, but John is dead, so…you do the math."

"Why take him away?" Elena asked, her voice shaking. "Why didn't you tell me that my brother wasn't dead?" Slowly, Jeremy's hand found his sister's, and he gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze.

"John wanted it to be Jeremy's decision." Isobel explained, meeting her daughter's judgmental gaze. "He was afraid that if you knew, you would convince Jeremy to complete the transformation, and Jeremy would have no say." Her eyes drifted back to Jeremy. "But obviously, you chose to survive."

Her choice of words made Jeremy's eyes narrow. "You don't know what happened after that?"

"No." But Isobel's words came too easily; they were too smooth, too controlled.

Maybe it was the fact that he knew Isobel was lying through her teeth, but something inside Jeremy snapped. In a flash, he had her pinned to the wall opposite the viewing window, and he knew his eyes were dark with blood. "_Don't_ lie to me," he snarled just low enough to keep their confrontation private.

Isobel's fangs were extended, and her eyes were dark, but she still laughed, even with Jeremy spitting nails in her face. "See? Stronger and faster. You move like a five-hundred year-old vampire, yet you're less than a decade."

Jeremy flinched when Elena touched his shoulder, but he eventually dropped his hold on Isobel and took a step back from the female vampire. "Where was I for five years?" he demanded.

"This isn't the information I was prepared to give. Now if you'll excuse me—" She moved towards the exit again, but Damon stepped in her way again with a predatory look.

"Who are you afraid of?" he asked, but his smirk said he already knew the answer—everyone did.

Isobel stiffened. "He'll kill me if I say anything."

"No, he won't."

Everyone turned to look at Jeremy, and it was clear that they all thought he was some degree of stupid, naïve, or a combination of both.

Isobel's eyes sparkled with mocking disbelief, but the more she looked at Jeremy, the more that hardened gaze of hers softened around the edges. "I spoke to John maybe a few weeks after your change, and he said that you went to search for Elijah; that you needed answers only Elijah could give. "But when I spoke to him a few days before he died, he hadn't seen you in months, not until he found you at a hotel in Las Vegas, where you'd apparently made a name for yourself.

"Now, every hotel on the Las Vegas strip has vampire shareholders. Some are even completely owned by vampires. Can you guess which vampire owns the particular hotel you settled into?"

Jeremy swallowed the lump forming in his throat, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Elijah."

"Elijah." She repeated. "And that's everything."

Damon raised an eyebrow. "Everything you know?"

"Everything I'll tell you. And before you get moody," Isobel fixed him with another of her glares. "You have no _idea_ the risk I just took, telling him even this much. Elijah took great care to make sure that Jeremy didn't come looking for him. Again."

"Then why is he messing with my head?"

The other vampire shook her head. "I've stopped asking why Elijah does anything. It seems to be hazardous to the health of anyone who does otherwise. Now. Let me go."

Damon looked at Jeremy, who paused slightly before nodding. And as soon as her path was clear, Isobel was gone without so much as a goodbye.

The group just stood stock still for a moment, taking in everything that was just said. Jeremy was the first one to break the spell as he stalked out of the fifth exhibit, not even bothering to stop into the sixth before he exited the main exhibit hall. Elena shot a nervous glance to the Salvatore brothers before she followed Jeremy, calling out his name.

But as soon as he was out the door, he sped off, leaving Elena staring after him. Stefan's hands on her shoulders made her relax back against his chest with a sigh. "I don't know him anymore." She said quietly.

"Sure you do," Damon said, coming to stand beside the pair. "He's still the emo teenager you knew, just…with vampire speed, strength, and power. What could possibly go wrong there?"

Stefan shot him a warning glare, and Damon did look away, but a smirk was still evident on his face.

"Fine, fine, fine." Damon waved them off "I'll go get him. Go get some food, and I'll meet you back at the motel. And make it snappy. We should leave before nightfall."

"Why?" Stefan asked.

Damon just shrugged, but Stefan knew his brother better than anyone. That was a classic Damon tell that said, "I know something you don't, but I'm not going to say anything because it'll get messy". And the way Damon disappeared into the hot Atlanta landscape just confirmed his suspicions.

Stefan had a feeling Damon was right. Things were about to get very messy.

* * *

**A/N:** oooooo very foreboding, yes? xD Reviews make me happy.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** _Okay, so it's a little later than I promised. See? Obviously, ya'll have to review to help me remember lmao Before we get to the new chapter, I just want to give a shout-out to an anonymous reviewer for Chapter 6. Anne-T, thank you for your review. I know a lot of people don't like reading about Jeremy, and that's too bad, because he really is an interesting character. So thank you for your words of encouragement-they came at a time when I needed them._

_NOW THAT I'M DONE BEING DEPRESSING/SAPPY, let's get on with the story, shall we?_

* * *

The door slammed against the wall as it flung open, and Jeremy stormed in, raking a hand through his hair. "I _knew_ it." He hissed to Damon, who followed him into the motel room after surveying the damage. "I fucking _knew_ it, Damon."

"No, you didn't." Damon replied as he crossed to his bed and flopped down with the grace of a cat.

Jeremy grimaced at him. "What?"

"You didn't know it was Elijah because he compelled you to forget. Not your fault, Jeremy."

"There were _clues_, Damon—"

"Like what?" Damon challenged, putting his arms under his head.

_The dream_, Jeremy almost said. But Damon couldn't know about that yet…no one could. Not until he could figure out exactly what it meant. Or if it was a dream, at all.

Jeremy threw up his arms. "He was in our lives for _months,_ Damon." The younger vampire shook his head."I should've known." Jeremy looked down and caught sight of his ring. He scoffed. "Especially after seeing this ring. Get it?" he asked with a bitter smile. "White ash. The dinner party, remember? You said Elijah could be killed using the white ash tree." He hung his head again. "I was trying to remind myself." The more Jeremy thought about it, the angrier he got. He should have figured it out. Starting with that damned ring.

Without warning, Jeremy took off the offending piece of jewelry and hurled it across the room. Trouble, was, he was sitting in a pool of sunlight let in by a window, so as soon as the ring left his fingers, he started to sizzle. Jeremy recoiled with a hiss and retreated behind his bed, the stupidity sinking in as blood rose to his cheeks in embarrassment and frustration—especially when he heard Damon laughing at him.

"I am _so_ glad I'm not stuck at sixteen." He mused, but he didn't make a move to retrieve the ring, which was—ironically—in direct sunlight.

"Damon…" Jeremy muttered, not quite pleading…but that wasn't good enough for Damon.

"As long as you're not going anywhere," the older vampire drawled. "Maybe you can tell me what's got you so freaked?"

Jeremy just blinked at him with a frown. "What?"

"Why are you so worked up about this Elijah thing? It's not like you asked him to turn you. Like I said, it's not your fault, so why are you blaming yourself?"

He just snorted. "I'm not blaming myself." He answered shortly.

After a moment, Damon asked, "Have you thought about exactly why you stayed with him?"

Jeremy's jaw clenched, and he shrugged, looking away from Damon.

"Of course you've thought about it." Damon continued, knowing he'd stricken a chord. "And you've considered everything. Maybe you were compelled to stay. Or just maybe…" His head lolled to one side to look at Jeremy. "You were there by choice."

"Shut up." Jeremy snapped, but that just made Damon's face break out into a grin.

"So you _have_ thought about it."

Jeremy started to answer, but he changed his mind and snapped his mouth shut, glaring at the older vampire.

"Come on, Jeremy," Damon coaxed with a small smirk. "Why do _you_ think you stayed? Obviously you've got some ideas, so please. Share with the class."

For awhile, Jeremy kept silent. He didn't want to discuss this with _Damon_, of all people. But…considering his other choices were his sister and her boyfriend…Damon seemed to be the least of the evils. So he decided to bite the bullet. "You and Katherine…" he started. "You had a…relationship."

"A completely dysfunctional one, but yeah. Your point?"

"_My point_ is that she wanted to keep you around."

"Yeah, just long enough to watch Stefan and I tear each other apart." Damon frowned and sat up slightly, cocking his head down at Jeremy. "What, do you think you and _Elijah_ had something like that?" And when Jeremy didn't meet his gaze, Damon had to laugh as he sank back down to the bed. "Katherine was a sadistic bitch that wouldn't know honor even if it plunged a stake into her cold, dead heart. Call me crazy, but I don't think Elijah wanted to play with your heartstrings. But sex; now that's a completely different story." Damon said, smiling when Jeremy's head snapped up to look at him.

"Sex?" he said blankly. "_Sex_? Seriously, Damon?"

"Just a second ago, you were ready to believe you had _feelings_ for the guy." Damon pointed out. "How is sex worse than that?"

"I didn't think I had _romantic_ feelings for him!" Jeremy snapped. "Just…a connection, you know?" A non-romantic connection that made him have dreams about Elijah doing _very_ interesting things to him—yes, that kind of connection.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Oh, so some mystical maker-made connection?"

"It's more likely than me and Elijah having _sex_." He spat out, rolling his eyes.

Damon shrugged his eyebrows. "You'd be surprised." He murmured so lowly that Jeremy barely caught it. But he did catch it.

"By what?" Jeremy challenged.

Damon smiled a Cheshire grin and closed his eyes, turning back to the ceiling. "Sex is just sex, Jeremy. Believe me. Once you're a vampire, gender just…" he whistled. "Out the window."

"Can you just get me my ring?" Jeremy asked, annoyed at where this conversation was heading, and he did _not_ want to go there right then.

Damon turned his head and shot Jeremy that look—like the look a child might give before squashing an ant. But, to Jeremy's surprise, the other vampire swung his legs to the side of the bed and got up swiftly and gracefully and retrieved the ring. He examined it as he crouched in front of Jeremy, the sunlight acting as a barrier between them. "You know," he drawled. "I thought you were getting used to this vampire thing, but now, I think I should just keep this ring and shove your ass outside."

The younger vampire looked back at Damon and gaped. "What the—"

But Damon cut him off when he leaned forward, breaking the barrier, and pressed their lips together.

Jeremy…didn't know what to do. The sunlight had him trapped against the bed, and Damon was effectively straddling him as they kissed. And holy _hell_ were they kissing. Jeremy groaned as Damon's tongue ran along his bottom lip, and Jeremy leaned forward, opening his mouth into the kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance, and Damon hissed as Jeremy nipped his lip. Damon's hand reached out and cupped the back of Jeremy's neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

And just like that, it was over. Damon pulled back with his trademark 'I told you so' smirk…but Jeremy noticed that it was frayed around the edges. "Now." He said, and Jeremy thought he heard a bit of harshness in that one word. "Do you have any feelings towards me?" And then that harshness was gone, replaced by a mock 'tell-me-how-you-feel' tone.

Jeremy thought about it for a minute, just staring at Damon, and then he composed himself and shook his head. "No."

Damon gave an easy nod of his head. "Me neither."

Jeremy chewed the inside of his lip. "But Damon—"

"I know, I'm a good kisser." The way Jeremy flushed and tried to recover made Damon smirk again. "My point, Vampire Padawan, is that to vampires, sex can be as casual as a handshake."

Jeremy just looked at him. "So…you think Elijah and I were…strictly casual?"

"Think of it like a 'friends with benefits' relationship. All the benefits and no attachments—"

"Okay, Damon, I get it." Jeremy snapped. "Just give me the damned ring." Hearing the words made Jeremy cringe, and he just didn't want to deal with this at that moment. Plus, it wasn't likely that he and Elijah even _were_ having sex. So why did some part of him consider it?

…And that brought Jeremy's thoughts back to the dream.

Damon stood then and tossed the ring down to Jeremy, breaking the younger vampire's thoughts, before going to the bathroom to retrieve a bag of blood. With a moment of thought, he pulled two from the cooler they'd filled with ice and headed back to Jeremy. "Drink this." He said, handing one to Jeremy, who was back to sulking on the bed.

He frowned. "We ate like, two hours ago."

"If you want to keep Elijah out of your head, you'll drink it."

Realization dawned on Jeremy's face when he saw Damon wince as he took a sip of his own bag. "Vervain. There's vervain in this?"

"No, I thought rosemary would give it a better kick. Of course it's vervain, dumbass."

Jeremy rolled his eyes and looked down at the blood bag. If it would keep Elijah from compelling him, well… With a sigh, Jeremy started drinking, and promptly spit it out.

It didn't taste like he thought it would—it was way, way, _way_ worse. Like swallowing battery acid, but Jeremy kept drinking. He drank until his lips were raw, and his throat was on fire. Not the fire of bloodlust—at least that could be sated.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he tore his lips from the bag and threw it in a nearby trash bin. He looked up when he heard Damon laughing at him. "What?" he asked when his vocal chords had regenerated enough to speak.

"Just a sip would've done the trick." He said through his chuckles.

Jeremy glared at him and got up to wash the blood from his face and hands—which were still sizzling and smoking slightly. "Shut up," he grumbled. And then, from the bathroom, "So why aren't you spitting up yours?"

"Hello? Five years, remember? Stefan and I have been spiking our blood with vervain everyday. My tolerance is a little higher than yours." Damon explained with a toasting gesture. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going for a walk." When Jeremy frowned at him in the mirror, Damon gave him a look. "I need fresh air if I'm supposed to spend the next few days in a motel with you. I can only take so much, and Elena would be pissed if I killed you. Again."

Jeremy thought about it and then he shrugged. "Fair enough." He said, but Damon had already left.

And then there was a knock at the door.

Jeremy guessed that Damon had been wrong, and Elena and Stefan had finished things earlier than expected, so he called out, "Yeah, come in." as he dried off his face. He heard the door open and then close softly, but he also heard the soft _click_ and _shink_ of the lock and chain being put in place. He brought the towel down from his face and looked up at the mirror—and froze.

"Jeremy," Elijah said in greeting, his voice soft and his features stern.

* * *

**A/N:** _Reviews make me remember to post next Wednesday! Well...that, and my trusty beta **Vesuvious**. You know the drill by now, go show him some love!_

_Thank you so much for reading!_

_~Jeannie_


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:** Gah I'm so sorry, guys! I'm moving into my new apartment tomorrow, and then school starts on Monday, and I had a theatre thing all week... Totally forgot about my Wednesday promise! To make matters worse, I've packed the spiral that I use to write out my chapters. Hopefully, I'll finish another chapter by Wednesday, but if I don't because of school, it'll definitely be posted in another week. Thanks for sticking around, and thank you so much for your reviews! I just love it when my cliffhangers are successful(insert evil face here)._

_PS: There be more manlove. Just light stuff, get your mind out of the gutter! ...Except don't, because I don't want to be alone down there._

_Enjoy!_

_~Jeannie_

* * *

At first, Jeremy couldn't move. And then he broke into a sprint, and he actually made it to the door. That was, before Elijah's iron grip was around his neck and pulling him backwards. Elijah slammed him against the wall next to the door, his fingers pinched around the area just above Jeremy's vocal chords so he couldn't call for help.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said, as if it was completely obvious…and Jeremy believed him. Just like that. At first he thought his blind acceptance was a mind game, but…

_The vervain_, he reminded himself. He couldn't be compelled. That made him relax…until he remembered he'd already been relaxed…and then Jeremy was just confused.

But Elijah must have seen the concession on Jeremy's face because he released his grip and took a few steps back, straightening his suit jacket—even though it didn't need to be straightened.

When Jeremy found his voice again, he asked, "Why are you here?"

There was a flicker of something in Elijah's eyes—anger, maybe? But it was gone before it could be discerned, and Elijah began taking steps around the motel room, surveying it. "A little bird told me you had a conversation with Isobel this morning. Were you satisfied with what she had to say?"

In a burst of courage and anger and frustration, Jeremy gritted his teeth and answered honestly. "Not nearly."

The Original just nodded. "I expected as much."

"You didn't answer me." Jeremy pointed out.

But Elijah evaded again. "By now, you must have realized I was the one who compelled you to forget the past five years, as well as more…recent…moments in time." His tone showed Jeremy that Elijah knew more than he was telling, and that just pissed Jeremy off even more.

"_Why are you here_?" he bit out again.

Elijah's lips twitched into a small smirk. "For the same reasons I went to you in the past few days." Jeremy waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. "We've had this conversation before, you know."

"Sorry, my memory's not what it should be." Jeremy snapped, and he immediately regretted his words—just like he regretted not moving from the wall. Elijah was mere inches from him in the blink of an eye, effectively trapping Jeremy in his place.

"Do you know why I erased your memories of the past five years?" he asked, and Jeremy could tell he was genuinely curious, as if he got a different answer every time he asked. But Jeremy kept silent and just shook his head, so the Original continued. "You asked me to do so."

Well…that was unexpected. "Why?" the question flew from his lips before Jeremy could stop it.

"You wanted to see your family." Elijah answered easily. "But you knew they would have questions you would not be able to answer. So I took away the answers."

"Why dump me in Mystic Falls then? If Elena and Jenna were gone?"

"So many questions…" Elijah murmured, almost musing. "The Salvatore brothers would contact Elena once you went to them, and you would go to your family with no questions asked." He gave a tiny shrug of his eyebrows. "Once again, you underestimated yourself."

Jeremy had so many questions. Why didn't he go back to his family in the first place? What was so awful that Jeremy had wanted it purged from his memory? Did he stay with Elijah for all of those five years? And if so, why did Elijah keep him around? But something about this just didn't seem right. So Jeremy asked the one question that might ease this particular unease.

"Why did you stick around after you erased my memories?"

That seemed to be the one question Elijah had not prepared for. He straightened slightly, almost defensively. "Why do you ask?"

"My first blackout was the day after I arrived at the boarding house." He pushed off the wall and took a few steps toward Elijah. "If I asked you to take away my memories of you, why did you wave red flags in my face?"

Elijah was quiet at first, and then, "Care to guess?" There was no mockery in his voice. He honestly wanted to know.

It made Jeremy blush, in spite of himself, and that just made Elijah's head cock with more curiosity.

"You've considered the options, then?" Jeremy wanted to roll his eyes at how similar that sentence was to Damon's, but he resisted the urge and stood his ground.

"I've considered everything." He admitted. "Maybe I came to you for help, guidance, whatever. Maybe you forced me to stay, and…maybe you didn't."

At that, Elijah's gaze seemed to soften, and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "You came to the conclusion earlier, this time." He murmured. "You usually require…quite a bit of convincing up to this point." The Original stepped back and sat down on the bed, gesturing. "Please, continue."

Jeremy stared at him for a moment, and then he asked, "Were we…" he hesitated, and tried again, but to no avail. "Did we ever…"

"Are you inquiring as to the nature of our relationship?"

His bluntness made Jeremy look away and start to rub the back of his neck, like he did when he was agitated. Did he really want to know? "Yes."

If there was an expressionless expression of being smug…Jeremy knew that that was on Elijah's face at that moment. And that just agitated him even more.

"It…we…it could have been casual." He pointed out, struggling to pull the words out as he paced slightly.

There was a tense pause. The smugness was completely gone. And then, "Ah, yes, that is what Damon said, isn't it?" Elijah asked with a voice dripping in ice.

Jeremy felt his eyes widen slightly, and he regretted moving from the wall when Elijah stood and advanced on him again.

"Was that before or after he gave you a demonstration of how 'casual' vampires can be?"

Jeremy's heart was thudding in his chest. There was something in Elijah's tone…something that made his blood run cold. Something that told him me _cared_ what Elijah had seen Damon do. "After," he said defiantly, and mentally smacked himself for sounding so hoarse.

"Do you think it was casual between us, Jeremy?" The question seemed so cheesy, and yet…only Elijah could make it sound so damn genuine…and filled with consequences.

"You've compelled me at least twice, that I know of." Jeremy said slowly, throwing words back at him. "And who the _hell_ knows what you did to me during those five years. You could have _compelled_ me to be something more than 'casual'."

Elijah's hand smacked against the plaster beside his head. The Original's eyes were cold, and Jeremy saw his jaw clench just barely. "I did not compel you to stay." Elijah said with a calm control that dripped with rage, if one knew what to listen for. "I've never taken anything that did not want to be taken." He continued, his face inching closer and closer to Jeremy's. "Not five years ago, and certainly not within the past few days."

Why did that make Jeremy's heart thud even harder in his chest? Made his mouth dry…? Jeremy pushed those thoughts aside because Elijah was still being evasive. Everything—from Elijah's anger over Damon to his asking Jeremy's thoughts on their 'relationship'—was simply a tactic used to evade Jeremy's original question. "Answer the fucking question." He growled out. Thankfully, he didn't have to repeat it, if the look on Elijah's face was any indication.

"I could not do what you asked." Elijah said, his black eyes staring into Jeremy's.

"What—"

"I promised you a return to your life—admittedly less ordinary than it was prior to the change, but intact, nonetheless. I…could not keep my end of the bargain."

Jeremy swallowed the lump in his throat. "So instead of just talking to me, you kept using me—compelled me to forget when it was convenient for you?"

Elijah was frozen, an immoveable statue with a fraying mask. "I couldn't stay away." He stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Their faces were closer than ever, and Jeremy could feel Elijah's breath on his skin. "Why?" he asked, mouth dry.

Elijah's eyes searched his face, and his only words were, "You don't need me to answer that question." The way he said it made Jeremy shiver, because deep down…he knew Elijah was right.

What he and Elijah had five years ago…it was not casual. "Explain it to me."

The Original's head tilted up slightly, as if he were surprised by Jeremy's statement. "You wanted to forget me for a reason, Jeremy. Telling you anything would defeat the purpose."

"I think it's a little too late for that, don't you think? You blew that door wide open when you started giving me blackouts." Jeremy returned, as stubborn as ever. "Which makes me think that there's another reason you erased my memory."

Elijah said nothing for a moment, and then he composed himself, stepping away from Jeremy and breaking eye contact. It was then that Jeremy realized he'd struck a nerve.

"You know I took vervain." Jeremy pointed out. "So why are you telling me all this, if this information would 'defeat the purpose' of erasing my memory in the first place?"

The Original didn't answer right away. Eventually, he turned back to face Jeremy, sliding his hands into his pockets. "You wouldn't stop looking for answers, anyway. It's better if you hear the bare minimum from me, and get back to your life."

"Just like that?"

"I gave you almost everything you asked for—"

"Exactly." Jeremy stated. "It was too easy." For every question Jeremy asked, Elijah had steered it in a direction he could handle, or brush off as something else. Something in the back of Jeremy's mind told him to let it go—to go to Elena and Jenna and Patrick and start a new life. But his stubborn side screamed that something wasn't right; that Elijah wasn't telling him something.

"You think what I just told you was easy?" Elijah challenged, but Jeremy wasn't going to back down—especially since Elijah was going on the defensive.

"Easier than telling me the real reason you wiped my memory and shipped me back to Mystic Falls."

In the blink of an eye, Elijah was only inches away from Jeremy, and still closing in. "Is it so hard to believe that you would love your family more than you loved me?"

Jeremy froze, but he knew that Elijah used the four-letter L-word just to distract him—exactly as he had their entire conversation. "No." he answered honestly. "It's hard to believe you'd let me go."

He saw Elijah's eyes widen—the smallest of movements—and he knew he'd struck gold. And the way Elijah turned away from him just encouraged him further.

"So why?" he continued. "Why did you let me leave?"

"It was what you wanted."

"Bullshit."

"Jeremy—"

"Look at me and tell me that was the _only_ reason you erased my memory."

But when Elijah did turn around, it wasn't to answer him. At least, not in the way Jeremy expected. Like a moth to a flame, Elijah's lips found Jeremy's, and just like that, they were pressed together in a kiss.

Jeremy expected to struggle—or at least to fight against the kiss…but for the first time in awhile, his body was doing something it _remembered_. And Jeremy's mind be damned if it didn't want this, because body certainly did. He lifted his head in the kiss, his tongue meeting Elijah's stroke for mind-numbing stroke. Jeremy's hands found Elijah's hips while the older vampire brought his fingers to the back of Jeremy's head, both supporting the kiss and stroking the edge of Jeremy's hairline.

The tension between them melted to nothing.

Elijah deepened the kiss, pressing Jeremy harder into the wall and eliciting a soft hum from the younger vampire as his tongue ran across the roof of Jeremy's mouth. Jeremy tilted his head back and tugged Elijah's hips closer to his own, wanting to feel the heat that started to build between them—

But just like that, Elijah was frozen, his hands gripping Jeremy's wrists and pinning them to his sides.

Jeremy's mind was a little fuzzy, but he managed to bring himself out of the stupor he'd managed to sink into without letting any frowns seep into his features. He knew he shouldn't have felt disappointed…angry, maybe, even enraged that Elijah would encroach upon him like that…not disappointed. But he was.

It was a few moments before either said anything. It seemed neither wanted to start this conversation. Or maybe it took them that long to find words for what had just happened.

"I had to keep you safe," Elijah said quietly, withdrawing his hands from Jeremy's.

Jeremy's mouth was dry as he tried to compose himself. "From what?"

Elijah said nothing, shaking his head.

The younger vampire's anger slowly returned. "How can I protect myself if I don't know what's after me?"

"You can't." was the blunt reply. "Information about me makes you—and your family—a target."

Jeremy frowned when Elijah played the family card. "I'm connected to you." He pointed out with a snap. "We're going to be a target, information or no information."

"No, you won't."

Jeremy laughed bitterly. "I'm _sick_ of your cryptic bullshit!" he growled. "Like you said, this isn't just about me anymore. Jenna has a _son_ now."

"Give her my regards."

"You're not listening—"

"Do you think it was a coincidence that your sister and aunt settled into Georgetown so easily?"

That made Jeremy pause. "Elena was accepted into college there on full scholarship, and Jenna was able to finish her degree—"

"Georgetown University has one of the most competitive literature programs in the country." Elijah pointed out. "Your sister is remarkable, but her financial aid application wouldn't have been given a first thought, let alone a second, without…outside help."

Jeremy stared at the Original for a moment before he found his voice. "You…?"

Elijah just stared at him pointedly, which was as good as a fanfare.

"And Jenna?"

"She was fortunate enough to happen across a professor willing to accept a new graduate student mid-semester. Very fortunate, considering he was also willing to work around both her pregnancy and the schedule that comes with caring for a young child."

Jeremy forced himself to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "How long have you been watching them?"

"Ever since you asked me to."

A breath escaped him as he fought to keep his tornado of emotions in check. "So you've been helping them…keeping them safe this entire time?"

"Not me personally, no. But the coven of witches that relocated upon my request has done a decent job, wouldn't you say?"

"Shit." He murmured, running a hand over his hair. He looked away, but Elijah's fingers on his jaw brought him back.

"My cryptic bullshit, as you call it, has kept them safe. Let me do the same for you." As soon as Elijah said it, Jeremy knew two things: one was that he would agree, and the second was that this was probably the closest Elijah would ever come to begging.

"So your witches…they'll protect us?" Jeremy clarified.

Elijah nodded, and Jeremy knew he was telling the truth. He would always be truthful when it came to Jeremy's safety; if Jeremy had learned anything from this little chat, that was it.

"But you still won't tell me why I need protection, or who I need protection from?"

"No."

Jeremy's eyes narrowed slightly, and he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Should I expect any blackouts anytime soon?"

Elijah's gaze wavered, but he kept his face expressionless. "Not if you keep drinking vervain."

The Gilbert's throat tightened, but he ignored it. He'd add that to the list of bodily reactions to Elijah that he didn't understand—or didn't want to understand. "Good." He forced himself to say.

Elijah's murmured 'good' seemed about as natural as Jeremy's. "You'll finish this excursion quickly. And go back to Mystic Falls, where you will accompany Elena back to Washington."

As much as he hated being ordered around, Jeremy nodded in agreement. The longer he stayed out in the open, the more he put Elena, Jenna, and Patrick in danger. He couldn't risk that. "And you?" he asked, acting much less curious than he really was.

But the Original just tilted his head in a way that told Jeremy he should know better than to ask, and then he headed out of the motel room, leaving Jeremy alone to digest.

* * *

**_A/N:_**_ As usual, Vesuvious deserves like, a Pulitzer Prize for editing this-and for dealing with my eccentricities. Loved it? Hated it? Just want to watch my ego grow or put me in my place? Let me know!_

_~Jeannie_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **_Here it is, lovelies! Chapter Ten. A milestone for me, personally, because I'm actually sticking with this idea. And this one's a game-changer, folks. Violent themes, galore, but hey-this is a vampire story, so, you shouldn't be surprised ;) _

_**I own nothing of The Vampire Diaries.**_

* * *

"You want to _what_?"

Jeremy sighed and nodded at his sister. "I know it doesn't make much sense—"

"It makes _no_ sense." Elena pointed out. "One minute, we're driving nine hours to get answers, and the next, you want to drop the search and go back to D.C. with me? Jeremy, you haven't gotten any of the answers you want—"

"Well, I don't want them anymore." Jeremy said with a shrug as he collapsed into an armchair.

His sister just stared down at him, hands on her hips. She obviously wasn't convinced. "Why not?" she asked, seeming genuinely curious.

Jeremy disguised his hesitation by taking in a large breath. "I thought about it," Bullshit. "And I don't want to go chasing after answers that probably don't exist anymore." More bullshit.

"But Elijah—"

"Probably won't tell me anything, anyway." At least that part wasn't _total_ bullshit. "Elena, look," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Everyone thought I was dead for five years. I just…want to get past that. I know I'll have to deal with the shit that I caused in the last five years, but…for now, can we just go back to D.C.?"

Elena sighed softly and knelt down to his level. "Of course we can, Jer, I just…" she hesitated, shaking her head. "I just want this to be what _you_ want. I mean, this morning, all you wanted were answers, and now… Damon didn't pressure you, or anything—"

"No, no, he didn't," he assured her. "This was my decision. I just want things to be…"

"Normal?" she suggested with an incredulous smile.

"As normal as they can get."

They spent a moment in silence before Elena shrugged and stood, hocking her thumbs into her front pockets. "Okay." She conceded. "I'll call Jenna. Tell her we're headed back to Mystic Falls, and that you're coming back to D.C. with me."

Jeremy nodded, standing with her. "Does Aunt Jenna…_know_ about vampires? About me?"

Elena pursed her lips and gave a tight nod. "I told her at your funeral. She deserved the truth, and I didn't want to lie anymore. And I had to tell her where I was going before I jumped on a plane, so…"

"Did she freak?"

"Totally."

Jeremy winced. "Damnit."

"I think she was more upset that she couldn't come with me than she was about you being a…a vampire."

Vampire. It sounded so strange to describe himself as one. Jeremy gave an absent nod when Elena excused herself to go make the call.

"So that's it?" Damon inquired at the door when Elena was out of earshot. Jeremy saw him and sighed.

"There's nothing left for me here, Damon." He explained as he packed the few clothes he had back into his travel bag. "And I'm not going to chase Elijah around the country. He's not going to want to be found."

"Unless you already found him."

Jeremy's surprise must have been like a neon sign on his face, because Damon's trademark smirk was back.

"His scent is all over you." The older vampire explained at Jeremy's disbelieving stare. He took a few steps closer to bring them face-to-face. His eyes drifted from Jeremy's face for just a millisecond. "And I do mean _all_ over." He teased with another smirk and a tap to the corner of his mouth, which immediately made Jeremy flush like a tomato.

The younger vampire set his jaw before turning away from Damon to resume his packing.

"Jeremy."

"What does it matter if I saw him?" Jeremy challenged, not quite meeting Damon's glare. "He filled me in on some things, and I decided to go back to Georgetown. That's it."

"Bullshit."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, actually, I do, because I'm the king of bullshit, so I know it when I see it." Damon countered. "You're too pig-headed to just give up after a few answered questions."

Jeremy was starting to get impatient. "Maybe they were the answers I _needed_, Damon! Maybe I don't _want_ to know the gory details anymore." He paused, holding Damon's gaze. "Maybe what he told me was enough to make me realize that I shouldn't over-think this. That instead of getting answers for _myself_, I need to realize what this means for Elena and Jenna and Patrick. You even said yourself that my coming back was the best thing that could've happened right now. So maybe I'm just now realizing that."

Damon looked at him for a hard moment, his ice-blue eyes searching Jeremy's brown. "What are you running from?" he asked suddenly, catching Jeremy off-guard. Damon noticed the way Jeremy wetted his lips, his eyes casting downward, and he knew he'd found something. "Elijah told you something, and now it's got you running scared, so what is it?"

"I'm not scared." Jeremy bit out.

"Not for yourself." Damon guessed—and by the way Jeremy's gaze snapped up, he'd guessed correctly. "Who did he threaten? Elena? Jenna and Patrick? All three?"

"I told you." Jeremy said slowly and firmly, staring pointedly into Damon's eyes. "I'm going to Georgetown for Elena, Jenna, and Patrick."

Then, it clicked for Damon. Elijah was still there.

Or, at least, he could be, for all any of them knew. He could have been watching them from the moment they arrived in Atlanta—hell, probably before that, since he needed to find out where they were going, in the first place. They needed to get on the road.

"Fine." Damon conceded. "Then let's get you back to Mystic Falls."

Jeremy nodded in relieved thanks and grabbed his bag before heading out to the car.

They left within the hour, well-before noon so they wouldn't reach Mystic Falls too long after dark. This time, Damon and Jeremy didn't have to trick Elena and Stefan into riding together, because they had already packed their things into Stefan's car. That little fact made Jeremy think that hope wasn't completely lost between the two of them.

When Jeremy and Damon got on the road, Damon wasted no time in grilling Jeremy about every detail of Elijah's visit. Jeremy didn't tell him all of the…steamy…details, but he left very little out.

"So there's something after you, just because you were involved with Elijah? And that's why he erased your memory?"

Jeremy shrugged. "I guess so. He wasn't too detailed. You should've seen him, Damon. He was actually…worried. What could scare an Original vampire that bad?"

Damon shook his head, his brow crinkled in thought. "Whatever's hunting him, it's doing exactly what I would do."

"Which is?"

"Attack the heart, not the man."

Jeremy frowned at him. "What do you mean, 'the heart'?"

"Elijah's practically indestructible." Damon pointed out. "So you don't go after him directly—that would be suicide. But if you go after what—" his gaze slinked to Jeremy. "Or who—he cares about, you can take him down."

Jeremy blinked at Damon and then turned his head to look out the window. Sure, Elijah had said that Jeremy would be involved in this mess because of his involvement with Elijah, but Jeremy hadn't really thought of it in the way Damon was suggesting.

"What?" Damon asked. "Did you think he would go to this much trouble if he didn't care about you?"

The younger vampire sighed and shook his head. "I guess I just…never thought about it that way."

"And what other way would it be, exactly?"

"I don't know," Jeremy snapped. "Maybe we were involved in a con, and whatever is hunting him is hunting me because I helped him somehow."

Damon tilted his head. "Okay, I'll give you that. And this is becoming an entirely uncomfortable conversation because I still can't stand you." He continued, flashing Jeremy a toothy grin.

Jeremy glared at him and then scoffed, folding his arms and looking away sharply. "Whatever, dick."

They continued down the stretch of highway, flipping through horrible radio stations as the previous faded to static. The caravan stopped a few times for gas, but they didn't linger long. Damon and Stefan were determined to make it back to Mystic Falls not too long after night set in.

The two cars finally pulled into the driveway of the boarding house a little before ten. Damon and Stefan had gone to check the house as an extra precaution while the Gilberts unpacked the cars. Elena got a phone call as she and Jeremy were walking up to the house, so she waved him along as she answered.

When Jeremy stepped into the house, he heard it. His body reacted with lightning speed to catch the vervain dart that flew from behind him. Jeremy dropped the dart in surprise and his eyes immediately searched for Elena—but he heard her screams first.

Jeremy called out for his sister and ran outside, but there was nothing but darkness. He saw their bags strewn out on the ground—and then he saw the vervain grenade. His entire body tensed, and Jeremy's survival instinct kicked in as he sprinted into the house, slamming the door shut and wincing as he heard the grenade go off.

He kept telling himself that Elena wouldn't be anywhere near the grenade. Whoever took her had obviously been luring him outside to the grenade… but they must have known he'd see it and run—

Back to the house.

Jeremy cursed himself and headed deeper into the house. He hadn't seen or heard from Damon and Stefan since they entered the house, so they were obviously taken or incapacitated. As he continued down the hall towards the study, Jeremy heard them.

Heartbeats. Eight, Jeremy immediately counted. Seven beating normally, and one abnormally rapid. _Elena_, Jeremy thought. He started running through his options—most of which surprised Jeremy that he even knew them. He could come at them hard and fast. There was no scent of wolf in the air—though how he knew that was a complete mystery—so he could easily take out the entire crew in less than ten seconds.

_If __none __of __them __are __witches_. Something in the back of Jeremy's mind whispered to him, and it was right. Witches would slow him down, _but__not__by__much_, the voice reminded him.

"Are you going to keep me waiting, Jeremy?"

The words interrupted Jeremy's train of thought, freezing him in his place. He knew that voice. It was a low tenor, a ghost of a memory long since buried, but it made Jeremy shiver, nonetheless. But he wasn't afraid. Rage built up in the pit of his stomach like bile, and Jeremy felt his eyes darken with bloodlust. Whoever this was, Jeremy despised him.

The vampire stepped out from behind a wall and walked into the study. From the landing, Jeremy could see that he'd been right about the numbers. Seven intruders, two subduing each of the Salvatore brothers to his left on the landing, and three on the lower level in front of the fireplace. One goon with a hand clamped around Elena's neck, a guy that looked like he could bench press a tank, and the voice. _The __ringleader_, Jeremy's subconscious suggested.

But this 'ringleader' didn't look like much, not at first. He couldn't have been much older than Jeremy, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. His sharp features clearly pointed out his Asian descent, but he was pale—so pale that his veins stuck out like blue welts across his skin. His hair was also starkly white, but it was quite a contrast to his blotchy skin. But it was the man's gaze that spoke volumes about his control over this group. His eyes were a pure, silver color, lined with a thick outline of black to separate the iris from the rest of his eyes.

There was something alien, something inhuman about those eyes that almost made them look fake at first glance. But paired with that white hair and white skin, they _couldn__'__t_ be fake. But the smile that on that too-white face…_that_ was fake.

"Pleased to see you again, Jeremy." he said smoothly. "Though, you probably don't know who I am. Not now, anyway."

Jeremy approached cautiously and stopped a good five feet from the other teen. There was something…_off_ here, about him, and Jeremy couldn't quite point it out. The uncomfortable shiver that ran down Jeremy's spine screamed 'witch'—and Jeremy could tell that this albino was most definitely a witch—but there was something else going on. "No, I don't." was his short reply.

"Ah, well," the albino teen shrugged. "It's not important. But what _is_ important is that you tell me the location of our mutual friend."

Jeremy's eyes narrowed. "You mean Elijah."

Those silver eyes flickered with humor. "Thank you, you're very smart."

The vampire settled his gaze on Elena, who was tense and shaking with anger and anticipation. But the words she was saying with her eyes were very clear. _Kick __his __ass._

"Did you really think this place would protect you?" the albino continued.

"No, I didn't, but Elijah did." Jeremy countered easily. It surprised him how much he enjoyed watching the blue veins in the albino's face pulse with annoyance. "At least, that's what he told me earlier today."

The other teen took in a deep, calming breath and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his washed-out jeans. "Well, I'm glad I was right. He actually cares about you. That makes my job easier."

Something in Jeremy's heart clenched, making the blood pool under his eyes and his fangs extend.

A smug grin appeared on the albino's face as he saw the reaction. "Don't think about trying anything." He said almost nonchalantly, turning his body slightly to give a clearer view of Elena, her arms held behind her back in an iron-tight grip by a bulky bodyguard. "Dear sister wouldn't survive any of your heroics."

"_Vervain ropes."_

Damon's voice drifted through the air at a volume Jeremy was sure only the vampires in the room could hear.

"_Knife __by __the __door frame.__"_

He didn't even make eye contact with the other vampire or glance back to the door before the words were out of his mouth. "We'll see." With that, Jeremy's body moved, driven only by anger and the need to save his sister.

He glided to the door, grabbed the knife, and threw it at the first guy holding Stefan down. Without another thought, his foot kicked out and snapped the leg of one of Damon's captors. He hadn't even heard the blood-curdling scream or the _crack_ of the bone before Jeremy pulled the knife from the other body and sliced both of the vampires' bindings. He immediately turned his attention to Elena—and heard the hiss of projectiles through the air.

He dropped to the ground in a crouch his body seemed to know well, the wooden stakes flying past him and thudding into body mass. Stefan's shout of pain rang out as one pinned his shoulder to a wall and another pierced his kneecap. A quick glance to his left showed Jeremy that Damon had been grazed, but the stakes weren't meant to kill—only to maim and slow them down.

The stakes had come from the goon and the muscle man. Elena had been thrown aside in favor of crossbows. Four of them, to be exact, but they seemed to fire way more than one shot at a time. But the weapons were bulky and slowed them down, so it was easy for Jeremy to jump over the railing and rush them both. The goon's neck snapped with a flick of Jeremy's wrist, and Muscle Man didn't have time to react before Jeremy's hand dug deep into his chest, crushing his heart. He turned to look for Elena as the body dropped lifelessly to the floor, but the hairs on the back of his neck prickled in warning…and then something occurred to him.

He hadn't noticed the distinct _lack_ of magic.

And as he turned, he locked gazes with those silver eyes. The bastard had been _watching_. Learning, Jeremy's gut told him, gathering what information he could before the fight _really_ began.

Jeremy lurched forward, fangs bared and ready to sink into that translucent skin. But try as he might, Jeremy couldn't get a good hit in. Before he even threw out a leg or go for the witch's jugular, a red-hot blast would singe him, searing his skin and clothes. The burns didn't slow him down, but he was sure as hell confused by them. The weirdest thing was that Jeremy didn't know what he was doing wrong. For every blow he tried to land, the witch reflected back a fiery parry, to the point where Jeremy was almost sure he wasn't actually hitting anything but fire.

After shaking off a particularly nasty burn, the witch finally seemed to get the upper hand. A sledge-hammer-like force hurled him backwards, slamming him all the way back into the railing near the door and shattering it to pieces. His head snapped up almost immediately after to see both brothers trying to go at the witch from two sides, but Stefan was slowed by his injuries, and the explosive blows the albino dealt were too much even for Damon. Fire exploded from the albino's palms, and he didn't even need to make contact for it to throw back both brothers, slamming Stefan into the fireplace and Damon through the railing of the stair.

Jeremy started forward again, but the witch locked eye with him again, and Jeremy felt almost every bone in his body give way with a sickening _snap_. He choked back a scream and braced himself against the couch—but he didn't fall. The bones in his legs and arms corrected almost immediately, and the pain in his shattered fingers didn't faze him in the least. His ribs fell back into place, and he glared up at the witch with a cold snarl.

Something flickered across the albino's face—the barest twitch of his brow was the only hint—and Jeremy could see the change in tactics.

Jeremy didn't have time to move before pain erupted behind his eyes, engulfing his entire being with mind-numbing pain and forcing him to his knees. The mental assault kept coming, and when Jeremy tried to find Elena, he saw her on the ground across the room, struggling to breathe against some unseen force.

"Her lungs are filling up with water." A hazy voice informed him. The albino came into view, obviously a little perturbed, and crouched down in front of Jeremy almost mockingly. "Now you can either watch her die, hoping against hope that one of the Salvatores was stupid enough to give her vampire blood, or you can come with me. Quietly, and without struggling."

_You __can__'__t __let __him __take __you_.

The voice in Jeremy's head was back, like the ghost of a memory whispering in his ear. Jeremy's gaze flickered to the side, where both Damon and Stefan seemed to be choking on an acid of some kind, blood and smoke spewing from their mouths.

_Vervain __in __the __stomach._ The voice continued. _An __easy __spell __for __someone __of __his __caliber. __But __that __can__'__t __be __the __only __magic __going __on__…_

Jeremy glared back up at the albino. He didn't care about himself, but he wasn't just going to let Elena die—

_You aren't thinking clearly._

The voice came back, stronger this time, pulling at his mind almost like…a memory. Jeremy had a split second before the memory came back in full force.

"_You are not thinking clearly."_

_Jeremy wanted to roll his eyes, but the pain exploding behind his eyes apparently wouldn't allow him even one act of defiance. Elijah had insisted on these training sessions, but Jeremy rather disliked being reduced to a drooling puddle after an onslaught of magic, like the one he was currently being subjected to._

"_Then what should I do?" he bit out behind gritted teeth. "Clear my mind? Wax on, wax off?"_

_Elijah's hand came to rest on the back of his neck, rubbing the muscles almost soothingly, and then Jeremy felt the Original's breath in his ear. "The exact opposite." He instructed. "He uses his emotions to control his art. Use yours to control it, as well."_

"_What the hell is—"_

"_Stop trying to keep yourself in check." Elijah said in that quiet snap he had when he wanted to get a point across. "It makes you weak, which you are most definitely…not." Jeremy let out a frustrated sigh and shifted, as if trying to break the mental hold physically. "Why do you want to beat him?" Elijah asked._

"_Because I'd really not like to be in pain anymore." He replied cheekily, gasping as the pain seemed to mount._

_Elijah shook his head. "Not good enough. Strong emotions, Jeremy, remember that. Find a motivation and latch onto it." He stood, towering over Jeremy as he lay crumpled to the floor. "Why do you want to beat him?" he asked again._

_With a growl, Jeremy bit out, "Because I want to get stronger." Jeremy finally opened his eyes to glare at the witch. "Because he's not going to control me." It took a few minutes for Jeremy's mind to hone in on that resounding thought, but as soon as he did, Jeremy felt the pain start to dissipate. Within a few seconds, it was completely gone. Jeremy looked up at Elijah with a pleased expression on his face and stood. "That wasn't so bad."_

_As usual, Elijah's expression was unreadable, but his nod of approval was more than enough for Jeremy. He then looked at the witch. "Again."_

_And just like that, the pain was back._

Jeremy snapped out of the memory as the pain jolted him back to reality. He glanced over at Elena—saw her coughing and gasping on the ground—and something inside him snapped.

Anger. Rage. The emotions swirled in Jeremy's head until he locked on the most powerful: the overwhelming need to protect Elena. With a little focus, Jeremy was able to push the pain away like an unwanted thought. He turned his eyes back to the witch.

"That the best you can do?" Sure, it was a challenge, because he knew this game. He knew what else was going on. And that was when he saw it on the albino's face.

Genuine shock.

His eyebrows went back, and he stood quickly, backing away from Jeremy. And Jeremy let him, even though he could have ended things then and there.

Jeremy stood, as well, his eyes dark and fangs protruding. He noticed the albino continued to stare at him intently—most likely trying harder at the same spell, but Jeremy felt none of the effects. And before the witch could try anything else, Jeremy closed in on him and gripped his throat. But before he could rip out the trachea, the alabaster skin turned hard and crusted over, crumbling in his grasp.

The entire body turned to clay, inch by inch, until it cracked and collapsed in on itself, leaving nothing but a pile of clay and dust.

Jeremy stared at his hand and rubbed his fingers together, feeling the clay dust residue, as he glared down at the pile of dust.

* * *

**A/N: **_A very huge thanks to **Vesuvious**, who stuck with me through the first awful draft of the fight to the last word of the finished product. I'm horribly nervous about this fight scene, so let me know if you liked it/hated it/were indifferent to it/have any questions! And the plot is officially moving forward like a snowball downhill. See ya'll next time!_

_~Jean_


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay, everyone! Technical issues, and a little friendly blackmail between authors. Yes, I'm talking about my wonderful beta, **Vesuvious. **But without any further ado...

* * *

"Jeremy…"

The younger Gilbert heard his sister's voice, scratchy from coughing, and he went to her, helping her sit up. She latched on to him immediately, ignoring the blood and human debris that covered her brother to hug him tightly.

_Elijah slammed the witch down onto the table with a resounding 'crack'. Jeremy's eyes were wide as the "witch" turned to solid wood in front of them and then crumbled into a pile of sawdust._

"_What was that?" he asked as the real witch stepped out of hiding._

From the shattered stair, Damon groaned and stood slowly. "What the hell just happened?"

The echo of a memory resonated through him, and it took all he had to keep from shaking. "A shadow doll." Jeremy stated as he helped his sister stand so she could go to Stefan.

"Come again?"

It was like reaching through a fog and grabbing random pieces of a much bigger picture. "A witch puts magic into it, makes it look like whatever they want, and then they can control it without actually being near it." Jeremy looked over at the pile of clay dust. "This one looks like it's made out of clay."

"So…you're saying he didn't even have to _be here_ to screw with us? _And_ be that powerful?" Jeremy sighed and nodded. "Witchy and Grandma Witchy never did anything like this."

"I don't think Bonnie and her grandmother are anywhere near this witch's power level." Jeremy pointed out.

"_Old magic," Elijah explained, crouching down to run his hand through the fine granules. "It draws on the elements, the primary source of their power—an ancient religion that few can still practice."_

"Did you see the way he manipulated that fire? That's ancient magic. Extremely old. More-than-a-thousand-years old."

"And how exactly did you turn into a fountain of knowledge?" Damon asked sarcastically.

Jeremy hesitated, and then shook his head. "I don't know." He lied—because he did know. At least, he had an inkling.

"Well isn't that convenient."

"Damon…" came Elena's warning as she helped Stefan to a couch that hadn't been destroyed.

Damon held up his hands on his way to the liquor cabinet. "Just pointing out the obvious."

"Do you _still_ think I'm lying?"

"The thought crossed my mind."

Jeremy was suddenly across the room and blocking Damon's path. "He almost killed my _sister—_just because he wanted to get to _me_. If I had information, don't you think I'd share it?"

"Don't waste your breath, Jeremy." Stefan said from the couch, a smile playing at his lips. "He knows that. His pride is hurt because you fared better than he did in a fight."

Damon's features steeled, and he rolled his eyes, pushing past Jeremy to pour himself a drink. "I think we both fared better than you, brother mine."

"Yeah, but I knew you were better than me in a fight. You had your ass kicked, and Jeremy doesn't have a scratch on him."

And it was true. Despite broken bones and third-degree burns, Jeremy's body had healed completely. If his clothes hadn't been singed and his hands covered in someone else's blood, no one would know he'd been in a fight.

"Probably because he was moving faster than the speed of light." Damon spat out, taking a swig of his bourbon. "How'd you do that, anyway?"

Jeremy frowned, looking between both brothers and his sister. "I just moved." He replied, eliciting silence from all. "How fast was I going?"

Elena hesitated before answering, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I couldn't even see you." She admitted. "I've only ever seen two vampires move like that. Klaus, and…" She trailed off. She didn't exactly have to say the other name, because they all knew it.

They were all silent for a few minutes before Jeremy finally said, "I don't think you can compel someone to forget what they learned."

Damon frowned at him mid-sip. "What?"

"Obviously I learned about witch stuff in the last five years, if I'm throwing around words like 'shadow dolls' and 'ancient magic'. I don't _remember_ learning about it, but that doesn't change the fact that I did learn it. No amount of compulsion can make me forget something I've learned." Jeremy looked around. "Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah," Stefan replied, right as Damon said "No." Stefan and his brother shared a glare before he continued. "It actually makes sense. How else would he have known how to fight like that?"

"Exactly. And I knew that thing was a shadow doll before it turned to clay. I remember Elijah saying something about it."

"Great, so you don't forget what you learned. Tell me, Jeremy, did you _learn_ Evil Pasty Witchy's name?" Damon asked, wearing a smug grin when Jeremy hesitated.

"I don't know." He admitted.

"Again, very convenient."

"Will you shut up about that, Damon?" Elena snapped. "Instead of interrogating my brother, could we please focus on who's _actually_ after him?"

Damon's jaw tensed for a second, and then he shrugged his eyebrows like he did when he agreed to something.

Jeremy folded his arms. "_Thank _you." He muttered.

"_Don't _do that." Elena warned, fixing her brother with a glare. "Damon's right, Jeremy. There are a lot of holes in your story, and the only reason I believe you is because I'm your sister, and you can't lie to me." With that, she stood from the couch, walking to him with her arms crossed. "You told that witch that you talked to Elijah today. Was that the truth?"

Jeremy was quickly learning that the one thing that hadn't changed throughout his transformation from human to vampire was his complete inability to lie. So he didn't even try to lie to his sister, of all people. "He found me at the motel, after the aquarium." He said, nodding his head with a sigh.

Elena's gaze on him was intense, a sisterly glare that made him feel like a little kid again, despite being a vampire. "Did you mean it when you said you would come back with me?" she asked eventually. "Or were you just going to leave with him?"

Jeremy stared at her. As much as he wanted to be shocked, he knew Elena wasn't stupid. She'd figured out at least part of Jeremy's…relationship…with Elijah—whether it was past or present. He let out another soft sigh and reached for her hand, squeezing it gently when she shifted uncomfortably. "You _are_ my sister. And when I said that I wanted to go with you to Georgetown—to Jenna and Patrick—I meant it." He blinked down nervously. "I wasn't completely honest with you about the reason…I just wanted to keep you safe. All three of you."

His sister's eyes softened slightly, and it was her turn to sigh. "You can't protect us all the time, Jer." She said, taking his other hand in hers. "I thought you would've learned that already. Just…tell me what you know."

Jeremy shook his head slightly. "All I _knew_ was that someone was after Elijah, and they were trying to use me to get to him. At least now I know what's after him."

Elena's eyes flickered to the two dead bodies next to the fireplace. "What would they want with Elijah?"

"Probably nothing." Stefan interjected from the couch. "They didn't seem to be the ones in charge."

"Cannon fodder." Damon suggested, swirling his bourbon in the tumbler. "Extra bodies. Evil Pasty Witchy didn't seem to be too concerned for their well-being." He lifted the glass to his lips to take a drink—

Jeremy heard the rustle and metallic fumbling of a weapon, and he darted to Damon, catching the wooden stake before it could embed itself in the older vampire's back. All eyes darted up to the landing where one of Damon's former captors was trying to reload a crossbow.

The intruder didn't have any time to snap another stake in place before Damon crushed both the crossbow and the man's fingers beneath his foot. The man let out a scream and obviously tried to yank his hand away, but Damon just ground his foot harder onto flesh and steel.

"Well that wasn't nice." He growled, and moved into a crouch, his foot digging further into the shattered bones of the intruder's hand.

Jeremy was already on the other side of the man, opposite Damon, his eyes bleeding to black. Neither vampire made a move for the man's throat, but a glance of understanding passed between them.

"You need to answer a few questions for us." Damon purred in a sickly-sweet, yet venomous tone as he gripped the man's chin and forced their eyes to meet. "And you're going to cooperate."

But a slow, defiant laugh bubbled up from the goon's chest. "I'm on vervain, you idiot." He growled, gasping through the pain. "We all were."

Damon stood then, staring down at him. "One? Don't call me an idiot." He then picked up his foot and brought it down on the man's forearm. Again, he let out a piercing scream, but neither Damon nor Jeremy paid him any mind. Damon resumed his crouching position. "Two. You're still going to cooperate."

"Or…what…?" he challenged. "Gonna kill me? Gonna torture me? Break more bones? Here's a hint, _fanger_," he spat out with a snarl. "_Nothing_ you do could be worse than what _he'll_ do to me."

"I can think of a few things." Jeremy deadpanned, causing the intruder to turn his head.

"I wouldn't test him." Damon interjected. "You and your friends almost killed his sister. This family gets a little touchy if you kill a sibling."

"I don't give a f—" But the intruder didn't get to finish his sentence. He cut himself off with a blood-curdling scream as Jeremy ripped off the shell of his left ear with his bare hands.

If Jeremy were paying attention to his surroundings, he may have noticed Elena's jerk of utter shock and Stefan's subsequent attempts to lead her from the room. But he didn't notice those things, nor did he notice Damon's mocking warnings. Jeremy simply ignored them and leaned in to speak lowly into the mutilated ear, "I read in a science book that you don't really need the outer ear to hear. Nod if you can hear me." His answer was a shaky nod. "Why did you and your friends want to take me hostage?"

"We…we were just hired." the man ground out. "Look, a witch asks for six vamp hunters and pays a shit-ton, and we don't ask many questions, okay?"

"That, I can believe." Damon muttered, rolling his eyes. "Did you at least ask his name?"

The subsequent silence made Damon and Jeremy exchange a knowing glance. Without another thought, Jeremy gripped the vampire hunter's shoulder and dislocated it as easily as tearing a piece of paper.

"His name." Jeremy repeated, after the man's wet groans had subsided.

The man hesitated, and Jeremy dug his fingers into the abused bundle of connective tissue, grinding bone against bone as the man cried out in agony. He only stopped when the vampire hunter started to say "okay" over and over, his voice hoarse from screaming.

"Hig…Higurashi…" he gasped out, his entire body limp and sagging in defeat. "He didn't give a first name."

Jeremy looked up at Damon only to see him lost in thought. "What is it?"

Damon blinked his gaze to Jeremy and then looked away again, his lips pursed like he did when he was hiding something. "If that doll magic is as old as you say it is, a Higurashi is the witch that could make it. Son of a _bitch_." He cursed. "I thought they were all dead."

"Obviously _not_." The hunter spat, his breathing labored.

"What exactly did he tell you about the job?" Jeremy asked.

"He didn't tell us shit. Just told us to grab our gear and head to this location."

"And you just took the job, no questions asked?"

"Look, man…I told you. A witch walks in, gives us 10K a piece to bag a stupid little vamp, and he says we _each_ get fifty more Gs if we stick around to torch an Original. This is what we _do_, man."

Jeremy's eyes widened slightly. "What did he say about an Original?"

"Not much, okay? Just that he was closing in on the Original, and he needed some backup. The…The guy's insane! I just need to pay the bills."

Jeremy's heart was pounding in his ears. "He _couldn't_ know where Elijah is." He whispered harshly to Damon. "He said he needed me to find him."

"Unless you're leverage." Damon suggested, his jaw set. "Remember what I said?"

_Attack his heart._

"Shit."

"How did he contact you?" Damon demanded of the vampire hunter.

"He used a phone like everyone else, with a _blocked_ number."

There was that hesitation again, followed by a quickening pulse.

Damon's eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling us?"

Again, the man was silent, but when Jeremy reached for his elbow, the vampire hunter relented. "_Okay, okay!_" he panted, looking down. "If we got separated, we established a…a rendezvous point. T-To get our money…" He frowned, panting harshly. "Is…is it hot in here…?"

Damon just rolled his eyes. "And that would be where, exactly?"

"Seriously, is it—"

"The rendezvous point."

"But…it…agh—guh!" The hunter's eyes rolled back, and his jaw slacked as he let out a wet gurgle and vomited blood all over his legs.

Jeremy leaned in slightly to check the man's pulse, but he snatched his hand away with a hiss. "His skin feels like it's on fire."

"What the hell did you do?"

"It wasn't me! What did _you_ do?"

"I don't think either of you did anything." Elena said in a shaky voice, gesturing for them to look at the hunter's body.

His face had _melted._ Legitimately _melted._ The hunter's eyelids had melded with the rest of his face, and the skin of his lips was falling back to expose bare teeth. The skin of his forehead had parted and left the skull partially visible.

Damon and Jeremy stepped back to avoid the vervain-soaked blood as it leaked out of every orifice the man once had. In mere seconds, all that remained was a pile of flesh and a puddle of separated blood.

The boarding house was silent as everyone took in the sight and _smell_ before them, and then the silence was broken as Elena ran to the bathroom.

"Well," Damon said. "I think I speak for all of us when I say, 'ew'."

About an hour later, after Damon and Jeremy had disposed of the rest of the bodies and Stefan had cleaned up the pile of goo on the landing, everyone gathered in the living room to regroup.

Stefan settled on the couch next to Elena, glass of blood in hand. "So…" he said as Damon took a seat on the coffee table, and Jeremy went to the liquor cabinet. "Why did the hunter melt?"

"It was the witch." Jeremy said, obviously convinced. "He knew the hunter was about to give up the rendezvous point, so he…"

"Melted him." Damon finished tightly, looking up at Jeremy. "Right after the guy puked his guts all over my carpet. I don't think we'll ever get the smell out."

Jeremy frowned at him. "A guy melted right in front of you, and you're pissed about the carpet?"

"No, Jeremy, you wanna know why I'm pissed? I'm pissed because after all this bullshit about protecting your sister, you _still_ haven't been honest with us."

"Are you—"

"What do you know about the Higurashi coven?"

Jeremy blinked at him, confused. "Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"Damon, why are you still pushing this?" Elena asked tiredly.

"Because there's something he's not telling us, Elena." Damon snapped, his eyes still fixed on Jeremy.

There was a slight pause, and Elena looked over to her brother. "Jeremy?" she asked when she saw that his eyes were downcast and his grip on his glass was a little too tight.

The younger Gilbert looked up into his sister's eyes, and he shook his head. "I don't know anything about this Higurashi coven." Jeremy stated quietly.

Damon scoffed in disbelief, but Elena was beginning to understand.

"What about the things you said earlier?" she guessed, standing to approach her brother slowly. "That stuff about shadow dolls…ancient magic…?"

Again, Jeremy's gaze was downcast. "I remembered it." He said softly.

"You remembered…that you learned it, right?"

"No, I mean…" He sighed, setting down his drink. "I remember Elijah telling me about shadow dolls. _He_ told me about ancient magic and how it's connected to the elements. And when the witch was messing with my head, I _remembered_ Elijah teaching me how to lock him out."

"Wait, so," Stefan leaned forward on the couch. "You're breaking through the compulsion?"

"I don't know what I'm doing." Jeremy snapped, exasperated and frustrated beyond belief. "The memories come in pieces, none of them get us any closer to Elijah, and there's a psycho albino witch threatening my family because of something _I can't remember._"

"Jer, it isn't your fault—"

"But it _is_, Elena!" Jeremy finally shouted at his sister. "If I'd come back in the first place? If I hadn't chased answers? If I'd just gone back to you and Jenna, this would have never happened—you and Patrick and Jenna wouldn't be in danger.

"I don't know myself anymore, Elena. I-I keep telling myself that if I had a _choice_, I would go back to you and Jenna, that I must have been forced to stay away, but I don't know that anymore. You saw me torture that guy." Jeremy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just…"

"Lost." Elena finished for him. "I know you want answers, Jer," she told her brother gently. "But we can't feel sorry for ourselves because of a few things we should have done. We need to _think_." But even as Jeremy nodded, Elena knew her brother was still completely confused about this entire ordeal—and she was, too. But they would have to work out their problems later.

"So what do we know about Elijah's location?" Elena asked, turning to head back to the couch.

"Well, he _was_ in Atlanta yesterday…"

"Gloating doesn't help, Damon."

"What about Las Vegas?" Stefan cut in unexpectedly, making the bickering pause for an explanation. "Isobel said Elijah owns the hotel Jeremy stayed at. So…what hotel does he own?"

Three pairs of eyes shifted slowly to Jeremy, but the youngest Gilbert shook his head with a shrug. "I don't know."

They were all silent for another moment, but then Damon remembered something.

"Well," he started. "I saw you in a Vegas hotel. That year, after you died."

Jeremy's eyebrows went up slightly. "Do you think I would have stayed there?"

"Uncle John said you lived nearby."

"But you said you searched for a week."

Damon rolled his eyes. "I didn't search the _hotel_. I mean, come on! Who lives in a _hotel_?"

"You did, for a little while." Stefan pointed out, smiling at the glare he received from his brother.

"_Damon_." Elena snapped, warning him. "What was the hotel?"

Damon glanced at Jeremy. "Well, I've got to hand it to you. Pretty sweet deal, if you do live there." And before Elena could ask again, Damon turned back to her. "The MGM Grand."

* * *

**A/N:** Oooooo the plot thickens! Where are we headed next? You'll have to wait for the next chapter! But the good news is...it's already written :P Reviews make me write chapter 13 faster, which makes me post chapter 12 faster... :D Thank you for reading, lovelies!

~Jeannie


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